The Guardian
by PiscesChikk
Summary: <html><head></head>A/U After fifteen years in the United States Secret Service, John Reese is now in charge of the protective detail for Senator Joss Carter, a candidate for the US Presidency. The road to the White House is not without its obstacles, and John has to not only protect Joss from opponents to her bid for office, but also himself from losing his heart to her in the process.</html>
1. Chapter 1

A/N This fic is based on an AU prompt by Carolinagirl919 and I decided to bite. I'm not from the U.S., so I'm going to try to be as authentic as I can when it comes down to the Electoral process there as well as the operation of the Secret Services and how they protect Presidential candidates and families. For creative purposes I'm going to take some creative licence, but I hope you'll enjoy what I come up with in this version of our beloved couple. A big thanks to Fanu for being my beta. And away we go!

***Disclaimer, I do not own POI or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>"Come in."<p>

Joss Carter stared at her reflection in the floor length mirror in her bedroom and idly called out when she heard the knock on the door. It could only be one of two people: her mother who lived with her or her son, Taylor. When the door opened, it turned out to be the latter. She glanced at her watch checking the time. It was a quarter to seven.

"Morning, mom," he said.

"Good morning," she replied, finally turning around.

"Ms. Shaw's downstairs," he said, referring to Sameen, her personal assistant. "And I'm headed to school." He turned around to leave, but she stopped him.

"Hold on, wait. Not just yet. There are some people coming here this morning. Remember we talked about this, so I want you to stay behind to meet them."

The _people_ she was referring to were members of the United States Secret Service. The look of annoyance on her son's face at the mention of them mirrored what she felt on the inside, even if she didn't allow him to see it. Truthfully, she'd called them as a last resort, but she was a Senator and the first female African American candidate for the highest office in the land. The amount of death threats she'd gotten recently had been staggering, not to mention downright frightening, and she realized that she had to think not only of herself but of the safety of her son and her mother. They were all she had left, and she'd never forgive herself if anything happened to them when she could have prevented it. So she'd applied for protective detail and her request had been granted. In fact, they were being sent over this very morning and should be there in another half hour.

"Why do I have to meet them? They're here to protect you."

"Not just me, Taylor, but you and your grandmother too. They're here for all of us," she said as they walked together and headed downstairs.

Once in the living room, Sameen appeared; a short girl with long, dark brown hair, olive skin, and a dour disposition. She automatically fell in step beside Joss as they made their way to her home office, located right off the living room. Despite the fact that her assistant appeared somber on most days, Joss found her to be efficient, organized, and very good at her job. She was excellent at anticipating her boss' needs, was good at following instructions, and Joss considered her to be extremely valuable.

She had information on the latest poll numbers, and they had a lot to discuss today about Joss' progress among young voters. She listened intently to Sameen, taking in the information but she was also thinking about the upcoming debate she had with the other democratic candidates and a luncheon she was speaking at for widowed military wives within the next few weeks. Her mind was going a mile a minute, as was the time.

"Taylor," she called out, narrowing her eyes. Over the last year he'd become so stubborn and headstrong, testing the limits of what she'd allow him to get away with. She knew it went with the territory of being a mother to the average teenager, but at the moment she didn't have time for his budding rebellious streak. She could see him inching towards the front door, not wanting to stay behind despite her asking him to. He spun round quickly, not realizing he'd been seen.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Go see if grandma's up yet. Make sure she's ready." She eyed him as he hurried up the steps then turned her attention back to Sameen.

It was going to be a long day, she thought. She needed coffee. "Sam, we need to take this to the kitchen for a minute. Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. Headed straight here soon as I got dressed."

"Great, so we both need food. Let's get coffee started at least."

A fresh cup was just what she needed, although it didn't stop the chatter about upcoming events. They were gaining momentum in certain states, but many people were still critical of her decision a few years back to vote for a military strike in Syria and their current occupation of it. That decision would also affect her speech and how well it would be received during the luncheon. People were split on her stances on foreign policy. It was a major hurdle she needed to get over. Her biggest opponent right now was Harrison Caine, a Senator from Chicago. He was the one to beat; they just needed to figure out how. She needed to meet with her campaign managers to work out a strategy.

The doorbell rang just as she heard footsteps coming downstairs. She smiled, seeing her mother being led into the living room by her son.

"This must be them now," Sam said, looking out the window, and they left the kitchen.

Although he'd had nothing but disdain at the idea of them needing protection before, Taylor's face expressed great interest at the two vehicles that were now parked directly in front of the building. A few curious neighbours stared on in interest at the cars with tinted windows and the men in dark suits that'd exited them and walked up the front steps.

Taylor didn't wait for anyone else to get the door; he opened it wide and Joss moved to stand beside him. She beckoned them to come inside and they were cordial as they filed in. There were six of them in total, but one man was particularly striking, Joss thought. He seemed to stand a few inches taller than the others. His hair was dark, cut short, with flecks of gray sprinkled at the temples. He had a very straight nose, a rigid line for a mouth, and cheekbones that could cut glass. He removed his shades, tucked them into an inside pocket of his jacket and she thought she'd never seen eyes quite like his. They were a deep blue, his gaze so piercing and intense, for a moment she was so caught up in it she couldn't speak.

He held his hand out and she took it, finally finding her voice. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, ma'am," he replied. His voice was low, deep, and he smiled. His eyes seemed to twinkle when he did. She smiled in return.

Beside her Sameen cleared her throat.

"I'm Senator Joss Carter, this is my assistant Sameen Shaw, my mother Mrs. Evelyn Ward, and this," she said, putting her arm around Taylor's shoulder. "…is my son, Taylor."

"I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am, Mrs. Ward, Ms. Shaw, Taylor. I'm Agent John Reese."

* * *

><p>John Reese had been in the Secret Service for the past fifteen years. He'd had a lot of standing posts protecting the perimeter at numerous presidential events, and he'd been assigned to protective detail for government officials and staffers. But years of hard work were finally paying off and he was now in charge of a team guarding a presidential candidate.<p>

He took his sunglasses off and made eye contact with Senator Carter. The discipline of his job kept his face impassive, but under the cool façade of his expression he was instantly drawn into her warm tone of voice, her smile and the way she regarded him when she spoke.

He introduced her to the other five agents who accompanied him; Thomas Bingham, Daniel Williamson, Trenton Miller, Jesse Olsen and Samuel Groves. She took them on a tour of the house and the surrounding property, and while the other agents made sure that every inch of the residence was secure, she took him into her home office and he sat down with her and her family. He gave them their locators and code names. Hers was Jasmine, her mother's was Jericho, and Taylor's code name would be Jasper.

"It all sounds so clandestine and deceptive," Evelyn said. The petite older lady peered at him over the edge of her glasses while she rolled the locator between her fingers.

"Some level of deception is necessary, Mrs. Ward, if we want to remain one step ahead of whoever might want to harm your daughter," he replied. "Keeping her safe is what's most important."

"I'm happy to hear that, Agent Reese. There are a lot of people who don't want to see an African American woman become president. There's one group in particular that's been very vocal about their hatred for my daughter-"

"Mom." Both of them gazed in the Senator's direction, and he saw a look pass between them.

"Well, I'll let Jocelyn share the details with you, Agent Reese. Taylor has to go to school and my first lecture at Columbia starts in another hour."

They all rose together, and Reese noticed that the boy was eager to leave. He assigned Olsen to go with him to school, while Miller would accompany Mrs. Ward to the university. He watched as the boy embraced his mother before leaving, and then he and his grandmother headed outside.

"Olsen, keep an eye out on the boy. I sense a little mischief in him. Don't let him get into any trouble."

"Will do."

"Good. Williamson, you stand post outside, Bingham I'd like you at the rear of the house and Groves, keep Ms. Shaw's company while I speak with Senator Carter in her office."

"Copy that," they all said in unison and followed his instructions.

"Senator," Reese said turning to Joss. "If I could have a word with you, please."

* * *

><p>"Would you like some coffee, Agent Reese?" Carter asked him once they were in her office again. She asked him to sit while she walked behind her desk to rest comfortably in her chair.<p>

"No thank you, Senator. And since I'm going to be your shadow for the next couple of months, please call me John."

"Alright. John it is." It was a simple enough request, and she guessed it was his attempt to make her feel as comfortable as she could be given the circumstances. Still the sound of his name on her tongue made her blush. She bent her head trying her best to conceal the small smile that came to her lips.

"All of this is going to take some getting used to, I know. But rest assured we'll try to be as invisible as we possibly can so we're not too much of an unwanted intrusion to your daily routine."

She shrugged. "I never thought I'd even get to this point. Of needing protection, I mean. I guess that was incredibly naïve of me to think that."

"I think it speaks to your ability to see the good in people as a matter of fact." Joss thought that he was being incredibly kind on top of being really professional. His warm words weren't necessary, but she appreciated them nonetheless.

"So how long have you been in the Secret Service, John?"

"A little over fifteen years."

"Fifteen years is a long time. Do you like your job?"

"I love my job, ma'am."

His answer was quick and confident, and she could tell it wasn't just lip service. It was the truth. "And in those fifteen years have you ever lost anyone?"

"No, ma'am, I haven't. And I don't intend to, either." He could see that his presence along with the other agents in her home and in her life was making the dangers she faced suddenly all too real. A hint of fear crossed her features, and she sat back in her chair quietly.

"I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe at all times. I want you to know that you can trust me to protect you."

"I started thinking about running for president two years ago. The campaign started last year and though there was some initial resistance, I ignored it. I guess they figured I wasn't that big of a deal, I didn't really have a shot, I'd go away soon. But they were wrong. And the more momentum my campaign gained, the more calls and letters I got. Last month there was a break-in at my campaign headquarters. They wrecked the place. A few weeks after that, someone threw a brick through my front window. My son was sitting in the living room at the time."

"Your mother mentioned a group in particular. Do you want to talk about it?"

She didn't, but she knew she had to. "It's a hate group, the Aryan Brotherhood Foundation. They picket outside my office, outside my campaign headquarters. Every time I have a public function they are there. I believe they're the ones responsible for the break in, and the brick through my window. Of course, I can't prove that."

"We'll have someone do a background check on the members, ma'am. Make sure you're protected at all times."

"I won't be intimidated, John. It doesn't matter what they do, I won't stop what I've always intended to do. And that's run my race." She got up from her chair, shook her head, and laughed. "And I think I have a very good chance of winning too. They think they're holding me back, but actually they just inspire me to keep pushing."

"I'm glad to hear that, ma'am."

"Good. Now I've got a busy day and an even busier week. I hope you can keep up with me."

"I'll be there every step of the way," he said.

"Hooah," Joss muttered with a smile, and paused, seeing him linger behind.

"A real army vet through and through," he said, recognizing the battle cry. When she turned round she saw a smile on his face. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"No, don't apologize. Yes I am. Served two tours. You served in the army too?"

"Yes, ma'am I did. Served in Kuwait. Desert Storm."

"Oh my God. Which unit?"

"Special Forces. I was a Ranger, ma'am."

"Well! That is one of the elite units in the military."

"Yes ma'am. I was a proud member."

"As well you should've been. But once a Ranger, always a Ranger. I definitely feel as if I'm in good hands now."

A flash of red coloured his cheeks and she smiled at his embarrassment. Admittedly she felt a little bit more relaxed; felt a little more of a kinship with him knowing that he was a former soldier just she was. She wished she had time to swap stories about missions, recruitment, and training. She would have loved to reminisce about some of the things they'd both endured and experienced.

"There's -"

His sentence was interrupted by an abrupt knock on her door, and Sameen walked in. "I'm sorry Senator, but we've got to get going. Harold's already at HQ wondering when you're going to get there so…"

"Right," she said, turning back to Reese. "So it begins."

She shrugged into a jacket and headed outside.

"Attention all posts, _Jasmine_ is moving to the car."

She heard him speaking in the back of her, and when she slipped into the back seat next to her assistant, there was a smile on her face knowing that he was in the front seat. "Hooah," she whispered again.

In the rearview mirror she caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. He'd heard her again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thanks once again to FangirlU for the beta, and thanks to Carolinagirl for her invaluable input. :)

*Disclaimer ~ I own nothing you see here.

* * *

><p>By the time Joss set foot in the door at campaign headquarters the place was already buzzing with activity. Harold Finch, her campaign manager met her at the entrance and he fell in step with her. She slowed down a little, compensating for his limp. He glanced at the agents who followed her inside, but otherwise paid them no further attention.<p>

"Okay, Harold, bring me up to speed," Joss said.

"Well, you wanted a strategy on how to get ahead in the race; I think we've found a way."

They rounded the corner to her office, and she stopped briefly to say good morning to everyone and thank them for coming in. Volunteers were already manning the phones; some of them had been there from the very beginning, and she always made it a point to recognize the hard work they were doing.

She noticed that John had instructed some of the agents to remain outside the building while two stayed with him on the inside. He nodded at her as he stood outside her door, and she acknowledged him, returning the gesture. Harold closed the door behind them, adjusted his glasses, and turned towards her.

"I see you've brought some new friends with you."

"You knew this would happen eventually. We both did. And you knew they were going to show up today."

"I did. That one just outside the door looks particularly fearsome. He has a glare that would scare a small child."

"Who, John?" she asked, huffing.

"_John_?"

"Sorry. He's _Agent John Reese_. He told me I could call him John. He's been with the Secret Service for over fifteen years." She felt like an idiot for even explaining this to him.

"And on his first day working with you, you're on a first name basis? Does he call you 'Joss', too?"

She waved her hand impatiently at him, not even trying to entertain what he was implying. Still she turned her back to him, not wanting him to see the blood that rushed to her cheeks.

"Don't be ridiculous," she countered.

"Well," Harold said, turning his head stiffly and looking at the door. "You know we could try to use this angle of you needing protection and milk it for what it's worth. It could win you some sympathy votes."

"Harold. You know I want to run a clean race."

"It'd be the truth, and it'd paint you in a more favourable light."

"Harold."

"There's nothing dirty about that. I'm just strongly suggesting that you take it into consideration."

She sat on the edge of her desk and shrugged out of her jacket. "Ok, I will. Maybe. We'll see. But I'm more interested in what you were about to tell me when I got in."

"Well, we've stumbled upon some new information on Nicholas Donnelly."

"What sort of information?"

Harold Finch wasn't one given to laughter. He rarely gave in to mirth of any kind, so the smile that came to his lips threw her a little.

"The sort of information that could guarantee he'd have to drop out of the race permanently. And if he did, the vote would only come down to you and Senator Caine for the Democratic nomination."

"Do I really want to know this information, Harold?"

"Yes, you do."

Joss had known Harold for a very long time. After she'd left the military they met when he taught Political Science at Columbia. She was a law student then and she loved his lectures, loved their heated debates in class. He even admitted to her once that she was one of his best students. After she graduated and started her practice, they kept in touch, formed a friendship, and when she finally decided to run for public office she could think of no one better to run her campaign than Harold Finch.

He might look shy and unassuming to the average person, but he could be ruthless when he needed to be. Which is why they balanced each other out perfectly. He did all the dirty work so her hands could stay clean. And sometimes in politics, the game got really dirty. If Harold thought what he found out about Donnelly could make him drop of out the race, the information had to be positively filthy.

"Ok," she said, taking a deep breath. "Tell me what it is."

What it turned out to be was Donnelly having a second family with another woman. A woman who he'd paid to leave the country with their young son. Finch had tracked them down and Alexis McBain was ready to come forward and tell her story. She hadn't heard from Donnelly for over six months, and she was tired of being his dirty little secret. She wanted to come back to the United States, and she wanted to sue the Senator for child support.

"This will ruin him, Harold."

"It will."

She felt bad about it even though she knew she shouldn't. He was a not only a man who cheated on his wife, but he'd fathered a child with the mistress as well. The truth needed to be told. The public had to know. And if it made her look good in the process, so be it.

"Where is the mistress now?" she asked, getting up from the edge of her desk.

"She and her son are settling in at a lovely hotel in downtown Manhattan as we speak. She's been instructed not to leave her room for whatever reason and to stay put until we contact her."

She knew that he'd already made up his mind. The story was about to come out whether she approved it or not. He simply wanted her to know.

"Ok, Harold. Do what you have to do."

* * *

><p>Once the door to Senator Carter's office closed, Reese took a look around the call centre in front of him. Posters of her lined the walls, banners hung from the ceiling, and the room was filled with people who wore t-shirts with her image and slogan printed on them. The campaign was in full swing.<p>

He smiled briefly thinking of the Senator's battle cry at home and then once more in the car. _Hooah_. It conjured up images of her in fatigues, the obstacle courses, weapons training, and field exercises. She might be a politician now, but deep down she was a soldier through and through. It warmed him somehow. Out of the team that he worked with, none had been in the army, so it'd been a long while since he'd had a chance to reminisce about the good old days. Circumstances being what they were he wasn't sure he'd have the opportunity to talk with her about said days, no matter how much he might want to. Still, the thought that they had that in common seemed to warm him somehow.

She'd gone straight to her office with her campaign manager. The man eyed him when they first got inside and he wondered what they were talking about now. They'd known each other a long time. He knew all of that from the dossier that he had of all her staff members, and they also shared a long friendship. Despite him looking a bit wary of Reese, his instincts told him that the man genuinely cared about Senator Carter.

They'd been in there now for the last half hour. Eventually Sameen Shaw joined them, and they remained in the office for an additional hour until the three of them finally emerged together. She went into the call centre, spoke with a few volunteers, even made a few calls herself. She seemed to be in her element, relaxed, authoritative, but she managed to be friendly and accessible to those who worked for her too. These people respected her, they were dedicated and they seemed happy to work for a candidate they truly believed in.

She listened as she got feedback from her staff, was open to suggestions, but was still firm when there was a particular point she didn't want to compromise on. Prior to coming to work on her detail, he'd gotten information on her professional life, military background; he knew she'd been married, widowed, and had a son. He didn't know her personally, however, or who she was in her private life. In his line of work he had to be politically impartial, but as the hours wore on and he watched her from a short distance away, he was impressed with her overall work ethic.

Who was he kidding? He was impressed with _her_.

At the end of the day, she was the last to leave. Her assistant had been sent home and Harold Finch had left a few hours earlier. He could tell she was tired, but as she locked the door of her office and he trailed her down the corridor to the exit, she still had a stack of folders in her hand.

"Well, you didn't do too badly today, John," she said as they walked toward the car.

"Ma'am?" He opened the door for her and waited for her to sit inside comfortably.

"You kept up with me. A few times I thought I was moving too fast, but turns out you were right there by my side."

"I'll keep up as long as you keep going." He closed the door for her and walked around to the other side.

"That's what I want to hear."

He allowed himself a glance at her in the rearview mirror as they took off. She met his gaze right before she buried herself in the contents of her folder.

* * *

><p>TWO WEEKS LATER<p>

_Are you coming to the party tonight after the soccer game?_

Taylor stared at the text on his phone, then at the agent who trailed him just three feet away. He shook his head, feeling frustrated, even a little angry that this stupid detail was even necessary. It had only been two weeks but it felt like an eternity had passed. He resented their presence, just like he resented his mother going into this presidential race.

She never asked him how he felt about it. Never once thought about how it would affect their lives. How it would affect his life. It just didn't seem fair. And lately she was always too busy, always had a speech to go to, a rally to attend, or some meeting that was just so important. He felt like he needed an appointment to talk to her sometimes. And even when they did talk, it seemed like they were on a timer and she had something more important to do.

He missed the way they used to be when she had her law practice and when his father was still around. He still missed him. Especially now that things were changing all around him. He missed not having him around and wondered if his mother would even think of entering politics if his father hadn't died.

He entered his building at school, heading towards class and out of the corner of his eye he saw Agent Olsen following him. He sighed.

_Yeah. I'll be there, _he texted back_. _"I'll definitely be there_._"

* * *

><p>Reese could feel his lungs filling with air, right before he let it out again. He could feel every muscle in his body being used as he moved alongside Senator Carter. They'd been jogging for over thirty minutes in Central Park, and she hadn't shown signs of slowing down. Dressed in sweats and sneakers, with her hair pulled into a ponytail in back and with a hat on her head, she looked just like any other jogger who came here to exercise every day. The only difference was that she had four men flanking her for the duration of her run.<p>

The others agents stayed a reasonable distance away while he kept to her side. She said she hadn't been on a run since before his team had first been sent to protect her. She missed being out in the open air, missed the boost she got from running. She said it gave her a chance to clear her thoughts and regain her focus. He couldn't imagine her not being on an even keel. But it seemed to be working.

He took a glance at her, noting her profile. Even when her skin was moist with perspiration she was still beautiful, still looked radiant. Even in her sweats he could still make out the curve of her thighs, the swelling of her bottom. He felt embarrassed for a moment, unable to shake the attraction he felt toward her. It was terribly unprofessional, he thought. He should be alert, concentrating on keeping her safe, not wondering what it might feel like to kiss those lips of hers.

They were moving, curving. So were her cheeks. She was smiling and shaking her head. "You're gonna fall behind, John. Don't get distracted."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, as she suddenly sped up and started to sprint. This woman was a beast. He wondered what she was like in b-.

_Stop it_, he told himself, and finally caught up to her.

A few minutes later they slowed and came to a stop. She took the towel from around her neck and wiped her face. She moved to a bench and sat down, tapping the spot next to her so he could sit too.

"Just let me catch my breath," she said. "Not bad, John. Not bad at all. But I guess you have to exercise often, stay in shape for the job."

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's your normal routine?" she asked, turning to him.

He was done for. Her eyes were on him, and there was no way he could look away. He did his best not to croak out an answer when he replied. "Ah, kickboxing, jump rope, treadmill."

"That's it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Almost like she could sense there was something else he was holding back.

"Yoga."

She laughed, and he turned his head. "I'm sorry. You're just so serious all the time; I can't imagine you doing the 'downward facing dog'."

Her voice trailed off at the end. He wanted to laugh with her, but he wouldn't let himself do more than smile. Not while his men were there. He had to be professional and not let it look as if he was having a good time instead of leading them.

"It's a form of exercise that's highly underestimated, actually." He took a look around the park and got up from the bench. "All posts, _Jasmine_ is moving to the car." He turned back to her, watching her as she got up. "You ready, Senator?"

She simply nodded and fell in step beside him. "So, you'd recommend yoga then?"

"I would. It's not just for relaxation contrary to popular opinion. It helps with your balance, it tones your muscles, even boosts your energy."

"Well, seeing as how you'd personally recommend it, I'll take that under consideration, John."

_There was no help for him_, he thought. He even liked the way she said his name. There was a drawl to it, a certain cadence that only she possessed. He knew he'd given her permission to use it the first day they'd met, but he wished suddenly she'd kept on calling him Agent Reese. That'd be easier.

He didn't look at her in the rearview mirror when they got back to the car. He willed himself not to. The run seemed to have energized her as she predicted, but it left his brain muddled. Filled with thoughts of her that he absolutely should not have. After he cleaned up and was dressed in his suit again, he felt better. He felt a little more focused. He felt more like himself.

It was Friday. The end of the week. Campaign headquarters were busier than usual. The luncheon for military wives and widows was taking place the following week. Everyone was making preparations for it. The Senator had been in meetings all afternoon with her campaign manager, her assistant, Ms. Shaw, and her speech writer. She spent most of the day in her office, emerging only to get food and retrieve items that'd been delivered for her.

At the end of the evening while she gave a speech to her supporters, Reese stood at the back of the room watching her as she spoke. He liked the way she carried herself, not only with grace, but with authority and confidence. He liked the curve of her lips when she smiled, the way her cheeks rounded out. He liked the sound of her voice, and he liked that no matter who you were she treated you with respect.

A round of applause interrupted his thoughts and she made her way through the crowd. When she finally got to the door where he stood, she stopped and smiled at him.

"Well, John, what do you think? How'd I do?"

"I think you did an excellent job, ma'am."

"Scale of one to ten?"

"Ten, ma'am," he replied, and she laughed.

"You are such a liar," she said, and he noted the gleam in her eye. He could smell her perfume. It was a light airy scent, and even after a long day she still smelled good.

"Okay, I'll give you…a strong nine."

"Well thank you for giving me a little room to improve."

She put a hand on his arm, and suddenly a spark ignited between them. For a split second his heart stopped, then sped up, and she looked him straight in the eyes. He swallowed and she took a step backwards, putting a hand to her chest.

"Joss."

Hearing her campaign manager calling her name interrupted the moment and caused them both to look away. "Excuse me," she said, and went to join him.

"What the hell are you doing, John?" he muttered to himself. "What the hell are you doing?"

* * *

><p><em>What's taking you so long?<em>

Taylor slipped on a t-shirt over his jeans in the boys' locker room at school. After a victory over the soccer team from Eastman Bailey, he was in the mood to celebrate. He looked at the text message in his phone and smiled.

_We're out front. Let's go._

_I'll be out in five minutes, _he texted back.

He tucked his cell phone into his pocket and looked at the windows next to the lockers. He dragged a bench over to their side of the room and hoisted himself high enough to climb through. When his feet touched the pavement outside he dusted off his clothing and made his way around the side of the building.

"See you later, Agent Olsen," he said, and jumped into the back seat of his friend Deangelo's car.

"Where's your shadow?" Deangelo asked.

"Probably still waiting for me to come out of the locker room. Now let's go before he finds out I'm gone."

* * *

><p>"<em>Olsen to Reese<em>, _come in_."

"Go ahead, Olsen."

_"Jasper has gone missing."_

Reese stood a little bit straighter, touching his earpiece and the small microphone attached to his wrist. "Say again, Olsen," he said.

"_Jasper_ _has gone missing_."

"How the hell did that happen, Olsen?" Reese asked. He looked in Joss' direction. She was still engaged in conversation with Harold Finch, but the crowd was thinning out. Most people were heading home for the day, and soon she would be ready to leave.

"_His soccer game ended, and he went to the locker room. He must have gone out the window because fifteen minutes later he hadn't come out. When I went in behind him to check up on him, I found his locator and his backpack."_

"And by the time you got outside he was nowhere to be found."

"_Right_."

"Attention all posts," Reese said.

From across the room Joss looked up momentarily and let her eyes sweep the room. John was still in the same spot she'd left him and he was looking directly at her. He had his hand raised a little to his mouth, his finger near his ear, and he seemed to be issuing rapid instructions. His jaw was rigid, and for the first time since they met she noticed a heightened sense of intensity about him. Something was wrong.

"Excuse me, Harold."

Her campaign manager stopped mid-sentence and she strode over in John's direction.

"What is it?" she asked him. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Ma'am, it'd be better if we could go to your office for a moment."

"Right. Follow me." Joss walked out the door, but turned around when she heard Harold calling her name. "I'll be right back, Harold. I have to take care of something."

Once in her office, she waited for him to follow her inside and closed the door.

"Ma'am, your son is missing." It wasn't what she wanted to hear, especially not with the Aryan Brotherhood Foundation showing up everywhere she went.

"Did somebody take him?" she asked, trying to remain calm.

"Not that we know of. At the present moment we know that he disappeared from the locker room where his detail was stationed -"

"Damn it."

"We are doing everything within our power to find him."

"What about the locator? Shouldn't that help?"

"It would, but he ditched it, along with his backpack."

She paced in front of him, hand over her mouth. "Damn it, Taylor. If he ditched it do you think he just…ran away?"

She hoped that's all it was, because the alternative to that was a terrifying thought. She knew Taylor had been acting up lately. She knew it was a strong possibility that he was tired of being followed and just decided to disappear. But so many people were watching her. So many people were watching _them_.

"It's a strong possibility that he did. But even so, he shouldn't be out there alone." The look on her face was heartbreaking. She was doing her best to be strong, but underneath that he could see her worry. He could see the panic she was trying to conceal and he wanted to ease it for her.

"I promise you. I promise you ma'am that I will bring him back to you." He knew it wasn't a promise he should make, but he couldn't stop himself.

"_Command post to Agent Reese." _

"Excuse me," he said to Joss and touched his earpiece. "This is Agent Reese, go ahead."

"_Agent Reese we have a location on Jasper."_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Sorry this one has taken a while. No Beta, so forgive any mistakes you may find. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Disclaimer ~ I don't own POI or these characters.

* * *

><p>Joss stared at her son's back as he went upstairs to his room. She took a deep breath and said a quick thank you to John before she turned to follow Taylor. From the moment John had said he was missing she'd been worried half out of her mind. She'd paced her office floor at headquarters until there was word that he'd been found and then when she'd gotten home she'd paced some more. Without his locator, it'd been a bit more difficult to find him, but according to John they'd not only used surveillance cameras from his school to see where he'd gone after he left the locker room, but they'd also tracked his GPS in his phone to pinpoint exactly where he'd gone afterwards. They had found him at Deangelo's house in The Bronx. He was fine, having the time of his life, but disappointed that he'd been found so easily. She didn't want to think of all the privacy violations the Secret Service might have committed to find her son, but at the moment, she didn't care. Once she had heard that he was safe, that was all that mattered to her.<p>

When she walked into Taylor's bedroom her mother was next to him on his bed. They both got up when she entered. She didn't know what conversation they'd had in the short amount of time it took her to get up there, but he looked positively chastened. Apparently her mother had done half her job for her already. But in truth, she was more worried than angry. Yes, he'd disobeyed her. Yes, he'd done something really stupid, but she was more concerned that he might not have been okay when John had finally found him. He looked up at her, fully expecting to have his ass handed to him. It's what he deserved she thought, but she really wanted to find out why he did it.

"Mom, give us a moment."

Evelyn simply nodded her head and left them alone. She knew her child needed to deal with this situation in her own way. She squeezed her shoulder on the way out, offering her the silent solidarity that she needed.

"Taylor…come here." Joss led him back to the bed, and they sat down together. She took his hand and held it. The gesture seemed to ease his fears a bit, he knew she was upset. "What happened?"

"I just…I got tired of being followed around all day. Tired of my every move being monitored and reported on."

"But you know why it has to be this way, Taylor. You know it's for your protection."

"We wouldn't need this protection if you had never chosen to run for president."

Joss tilted her head at his words, at the frustration in his voice while he continued.

"This is what _you_ wanted, mom. You never asked me how I felt about it; you didn't think for once what it would mean to me. Or grandma."

"Don't bring your grandma into this. And yes, I did. We all discussed this before the campaign ever started."

"You came to me and you said that you were running. There was no discussion about it. That was it. Point blank, period. Now nothing's normal around here. We don't have family dinners, we don't even have breakfast together anymore. Now we have code names and campaign meetings. Now we have to put on a show for the cameras all the time. I feel like I need an appointment to see you. And now…we have the Secret Service. I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry I took off. I'm sorry I made you worry. But I just wanted to get away from all _this_. For just a little while."

"You don't need an appointment to speak to me Taylor. If something's bothering you I want to know about it." She cupped his chin, turning his head towards her. "You've never had a problem coming to me before, no matter how busy I was, I always had time for you. I still do. You know that. I'm sorry if you feel I made this decision without you. But I chose to do this because I honestly feel like I can make a difference. I knew it was going to be hard. For all of us. I probably didn't anticipate all _this_," she said, mimicking his expression a few moments ago. "I don't like getting threats in the mail. I don't like people picketing outside my office. I don't like people throwing bricks through my front window. I damn sure don't like people threatening the ones I love most."

Her son was her world, and hearing how frustrated and neglected he felt tore at her heart. She cupped his face, sad to see the pain in his eyes. "I thought that the destination….where I wanted to go, was worth it. But it's not if you don't want to go there with me."

"What are you saying, mom?"

"I'm saying…if you don't want me to run anymore, I won't. I'll cancel the luncheon next week, close up the campaign office, I'll withdraw my candidacy…and it'll just be me and you. If that's what you really want."

He shook his head. "Of course that's not what I want. I know you wouldn't be happy not pursuing this as far as you can. And I wouldn't be happy if you quit now."

"Good," she said with a sigh. "Cause I don't want to quit now. But I need to know that you still got my back. Cause Taylor, baby, I always got yours. No matter what I may be busy doing, you're still the most important thing in the world to me."

"I know," he said, nodding.

"Yeah," she said, getting up. "Come here."

He got up and she pulled him into an embrace. "I love you, baby boy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, mom."

She felt her eyes pooling with tears, and blinked at them. "Don't think cause we made up and we talked that this excuses what you did though." She felt him stiffen in her arms, but she didn't let him go. "You're grounded. T, I love you, but you are so grounded. No soccer practice, no parties, no extra-curricular activities. You go to school and then you come back home. No phone calls either. No IPad, no cell phone. You go on the internet only if you have homework."

"Mom, come on," he said protesting.

"Taylor, for a month you are grounded."

"A whole month? Mom! It was only a party."

He tried to pull away from her, and she finally relaxed her hold. "Mom, please." He looked so pitiful, and while she still thought about what could have happened to him while he'd disappeared, she relaxed. A little.

"Okay. Three weeks.

"Two weeks," he countered. She stared at him, seeing Paul in his eyes and she softened even more.

"Two and a half. But I'll be watching you, Taylor.

"I know you will," he said, and handed her his cell phone.

"Give me the rest," she said with an eyebrow raised. When she said he was on punishment, she meant it. She watched him reluctantly gather his other devices before handing them to her. She shook her head as she cradled them in her arm and turned to leave.

"How about you and I and grandma go somewhere one weekend. In three weeks, we'll leave Friday night, come back Sunday evening. Just us three. No meetings, no politics, just us hanging out like old times. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "That'd be cool."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"'Night, mom."

Once outside Taylor's room, the tears that'd gathered in her eyes a few moments ago were on the verge of falling. She stood in the hallway for a moment, gathering her thoughts when she saw John heading towards her. She straightened up as he got nearer and dabbed at her eyes. It was too late, he'd already seen her, and she kissed her teeth.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Would you like a moment?"

"No," she said, sniffling and rubbed her eyes. "You've already seen that I'm a mess. What is it?"

"I wanted to let you know that we'll be assigning two new agents to Taylor from now on."

"Two?" she asked, as they fell in step together.

"Yes, ma'am. They'll be here in the morning."

"Thank you so much, John. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found him. I'd never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to him. He's all I have now that -"

The sound of Taylor's phone ringing in her hand startled her. She checked the caller ID. "_Tiffany_."

She silenced the phone and looked up at John again. He stood looming over her, and though he was only her protective detail she was glad he was here. He'd been with her since early morning when she went running, had been with her all day at headquarters and had stayed through the whole ordeal with Taylor. Even though he'd been silent, she still felt his support strongly. She'd felt something earlier this evening. Something else that had hit her suddenly right before she got news of Taylor's disappearance. She shook her head, realizing where her thoughts were going and took a step back.

"It's almost midnight. I think I'm gonna call it a night. I'll see you in the morning, John."

"Goodnight, ma'am."

* * *

><p>Reese watched Senator Carter walk to her bedroom, and it wasn't until she closed the door behind her that he let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He'd seen her at her strongest in the past two weeks, had seen her at her most resilient despite having opposition thrown at her not only in the media but in person at quite a lot of venues she visited. He was truly amazed at what he had seen her endure. But tonight, although she'd put on a brave face in spite of the bad news he'd given her, she eventually showed a different side to her once the boy had been brought home. Underneath it all, she was soft, vulnerable, and instead of being turned off by it, he felt drawn to her even more.<p>

He descended the stairs, checking his watch as he stood just below them and saw that there was just one more hour until his shift was done. In such a short space of time he was feeling things he shouldn't be feeling. Thinking things he shouldn't be thinking. It was unprecedented, and this being a routine assignment, save for the fact that she was his first political candidate, nothing was out of the ordinary of what he'd done before.

So why now? Why her? Why was he having such a strong reaction to her, and why wasn't he able to suppress it? In the darkened walls of the hallway just a moment ago, he'd wanted nothing more than to comfort her knowing that she still felt uneasy about tonight's events. He knew she would never reveal it, but he sensed that she'd been terrified. The knowledge of her fear was what made him promise to bring her son back. It's what made him want to do whatever was in his power to keep his word.

But why? That question kept coming back, over and over again. He wasn't sure he wanted the answers, wasn't sure he'd like the conclusions he would come up with if he dug deeper.

Groves, Miller, and Bingham were all in the living room, and he made his way there to speak with them. They were all preparing for a slight shift change. He and Williamson were going home. But he wanted to make sure that there weren't any more incidents like earlier this evening. Not anymore and not on his watch. It was his biggest assignment yet, and all eyes were on them. Literally.

An hour later, he started to feel tired. He was longing for a shower, for his bed, but still he walked through the house, checking with each of the agents to ensure that all posts were secure. He wanted to make sure that the Senator and her family was safe for the night. After dismissing Williamson, he was preparing to leave when he saw her coming down the stairs.

"Everything alright ma'am?" he asked, as he approached her. She was dressed in pajamas and a robe, tying the belt around her waist as she looked up at him.

"Everything's fine. I just can't sleep. Thought about raiding the fridge." Her hair was down, her face devoid of makeup, and he couldn't help thinking how beautiful she was. So delicate and feminine.

She headed to the kitchen and he followed. "Hope we didn't keep you up, ma'am."

"No, of course not. It's just stuff at headquarters today…Taylor…my mind just won't be still you know?"

She opened the fridge and peered inside. She stared for a while, her eyes not settling on anything in particular, and she was so quiet he thought that maybe she wanted to talk instead of eat.

"Kids…" she said, quietly, confirming his suspicions. "Kids are really something else, you know. You have any kids, John?"

"No, ma'am, I don't."

She gestured at his left hand. "I don't see a wedding ring; guess you're not married either."

He looked down at his hand for a moment, his mouth twitching. "No, I'm not."

"You ever wanted to get married? Been in love?"

"Once. It was a long time ago. I thought we'd get married. It didn't work out."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I was on tour for a couple of years. While I was away…the things I saw changed who I was. When I came back, we drifted apart, she met someone else, and they got married."

He grew pensive for a moment, remembering things that he hadn't thought of in ages, let alone talked about. He didn't have the luxury of relationships in his line of work, and he suddenly realized that it had been a really long time since he'd cared about someone as much as he had cared for Jessica.

"I'm sorry. I have no right to ask you these things."

"It's okay." He stood on the opposite side of the island and faced her.

"It's just that…my husband…sometimes….sometimes I wish that I had someone to tell me that I'm doing a good job. That I'm not neglecting my child, and that I'm being a good parent."

"Well for what it's worth ma'am, I think you are doing a good job, and I think you are a good parent."

He didn't know what got into him, didn't know what had caused the sudden shift in the air, but it almost crackled around them. He wasn't sure if it was the expression on her face or the intensity of her gaze, but he slid his hands across the counter top and lightly touched her fingers. The spark that passed between them earlier was now a lightning bolt, and he wondered if she felt it too. He heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the acknowledgment in her eyes and knew that she had.

She swallowed, and though a flush crept over her cheeks, she brushed her fingers over his too. "That's very sweet of you to say. You really didn't have to."

"I meant it."

"Thanks," she said, and she continued to look at him, her eyes holding him in place. He couldn't move or look away if he wanted to. "So after this girl, there's been no one else?"

"No one I felt strongly enough about to want to spend the rest of my life with, no."

"So you're married to your job."

"I guess you can say that."

"And it's been a pretty long marriage. Going strong after fifteen years. And counting."

"What can I say? I'm loyal."

"Don't you get lonely sometimes, John? I mean at the end of the day when you go home at night, don't you wish you had someone to come home to?"

"Not until recently, ma'am."

She lowered her eyes then, her cheeks flushed once more and he knew he was teetering on a very fine line, but he hoped she understood his meaning. He knew it was so wrong. If any of the agents underneath him had even thought about doing what he was doing right now, he'd have them transferred, moved to another post. Yet, he couldn't stop. "I didn't see any information on anyone in your dossier…about you seeing anyone, but…"

"There's been no one since Paul. I've been on a few dates here and there, but nothing significant. I guess you and I are alike in more ways than one. Soldiers, career driven, married to the job…"

"Looking for -"

"…something," she finished for him. Finally he looked away, letting out a ragged breath as she gently dragged her index finger along his. He could feel the tip of her fingernail, and it sent an image of her nails digging into his back straight into his thoughts. He had to break the spell they both seemed to be under.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. It's been a long day. I didn't mean to act or speak inappropriately. Or suggest to you that I -" His excuses sounded hollow to his own ears. "It's the end of my shift, and if it's okay with you, I'll say goodnight."

He pushed away from the counter and walked away, but he could still feel the imprint of her fingers on his hand. He clenched his fist a little trying to preserve the feeling in his mind, but she called after him.

"Wait."

"Ma'am?" he asked, turning around to face her once more. She looked around as if trying to find the right words to say.

"Before you go…tell me about Ranger training."

He couldn't help but smile. "You want to know about Ranger training?"

"Yeah," she answered, smiling in return. "What was the hardest part for you?" She sat down on the bar stool and leaned forward on her elbows waiting for him to answer.

"Florida."

"Florida?"

He nodded. "Marching through Florida's swamp was particularly brutal. Less than half of the recruits remain after that part of the training's done."

"Really?"

"Yes ma'am. It's almost like an elimination round, a test of endurance, will. We trekked for days without food, very little water, barely any sleep, all while carrying a backpack that weighed almost ninety pounds. After a couple of days though, you push yourself hard enough, you start to get used to it. Your body adjusts, and you just keep going."

"Where'd you go after Florida?"

"To Georgia."

"To what I guess was the second hardest part of Ranger training."

For the first time since he'd met her, he allowed himself to not only smile, but laugh. "It was just a tad bit easier, yes ma'am."

"There it is."

"There what is?"

"That smile. Your laugh. I knew I'd see it eventually."

He looked away, his face suddenly serious. "No, don't do that. Don't hide it. I like your smile."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Now," she said, patting the bar stool next to her. "Tell me about Georgia."

* * *

><p>Joss lay in bed much later, but she still couldn't sleep. She wasn't worried about Taylor anymore or what was going on with the campaign. She was up for an entirely different reason. She was still thinking about something, rather someone, she couldn't believe she was even thinking about. She was still thinking about <em>John<em>.

It wasn't until almost an hour later after their conversation started that Joss realized that his shift was already over. He had wanted to leave earlier, but instead she'd been selfish and asked him to stay behind and talk to her. And he had. When he finally sat down beside her the rest of the world disappeared while she gazed into his blue eyes and listened to him speak. Once one topic was finished, she moved on to another one. She asked him question after question, doing her best to draw him out just a little bit more each time.

After a while she could see that he was tired, but if she hadn't decided to end the conversation and suggest he go home, she fully believed he would have stayed for however much longer she wanted him to be there. She found that refreshing. She found him charming, although there was a part of him she sensed was still a little heartbroken over the woman he mentioned that he was in love with. He'd lost her to another man, and she'd lost Paul to the grave. They truly were almost the same.

She rolled onto her back, thinking of how he touched her hand, the flush that had crept over her entire body and stained her cheeks. She knew he'd seen it, but he hadn't made fun of her, and she couldn't help thinking how sweet he was. Every word he said, ever sentence uttered played over and over in her mind until she could do nothing but smile like a teenager and wonder why he had to come into her life at a time like this. Still, if circumstances weren't what they were, she may never have met him in the first place.

She fisted the sheets in frustration, a groan escaping her mouth. The situation was impossible. Ridiculously impossible. Pathetically impossible. And she needed to just forget about the conversation in the kitchen, pretend it never happened. It would never go anywhere between them. If it did, he'd end up fired, and not only would she be crucified in the press, but her political aspirations would be over. And why was she even thinking about this anyway? She'd only known him for two weeks. Emotions were running high after the run this morning and later at headquarters. Surely that was all that it was.

She was sure the conversation in the kitchen meant nothing to him.

But what if it had? What if it had? What if he was at this very moment lying in bed thinking of her the way she was thinking of him? She buried her head in a pillow letting out another groan. She needed to get some sleep. Yes, sleep was in order. Maybe when she got up the next morning, she would have come to her senses again.

As she closed her eyes, she gathered the sheet around her and pulled it up to her chin, silently wishing John a goodnight wherever he was right now.

"Hooah," she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer ~ Nothing you see belongs to me.

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><p>When Joss opened her eyes the next morning it was to the smell of coffee and the feeling of being poked in the shoulder.<p>

"Joss."

She heard her name being called, and then came the poking again. The sleep she'd finally settled into was so sweet; she didn't want to wake from it.

"Joss, get up." The voice was insistent now, and she finally opened her eyes. When she rolled over and pulled the covers down, she came face to face with Harold who was sitting next to her on the bed.

"Here, I brought you some coffee." He held out the steaming cup toward her and she scowled at him.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, Harold? Who let you in here?"

"Taylor let me in. I told him it was important and that you wouldn't mind." He shifted on the bed next to her and she finally sat up.

"You were lying to yourself and my son. What time is it?" she asked, looking around.

"It's a little after nine."

"It's Saturday," she complained, wanting to go back underneath the covers.

She hadn't realized it was that late. She knew she'd set her alarm for the usual time, but she didn't hear it this morning. Now she remembered why. Tossing and turning the night prior had led her downstairs, and she'd spent time with John before heading back to bed. Even then it had been a while before her eyes had closed shut.

"I have to have a chat with my son. And the Secret Service," she said, pointing to the door.

"Your usual watch dog isn't here this morning. I am sure he'd have issue with me barging in on you. The other agent didn't seem to mind." She got out of bed and took the coffee from him, taking a sip.

"Which other agent?" she wondered.

"I think this one was…Groves. He's got curly brown hair, beady eyes."

"Hmm…John will probably be here in another hour or two. And don't call him a watchdog. What's so important?" she asked.

"The interview with Donnelly's mistress is airing this afternoon. We have to prep you for the response you're going to give immediately after."

"I'm sure you have my speech prepared already."

"True, but…this is going to raise the question we've dodged successfully for a while."

"What question?"

"The question about you being a single mother."

"I'm not a single mother, remember? My husband died."

"You and I both know that, but…"

She sighed as he got up off the bed. He was right. They had been able to avoid it, but the strength of a candidate's campaign was tied to how strong his family unit was. It tied directly to a candidate's character, his family values. Up until now they'd marketed her as a widow, a mother, a successful attorney, but for a lot of people, a stable leader was in a stable marriage and in that instance, she was sorely lacking.

"Well what do you suggest? I'm not about to go out and get engaged tomorrow just so I can be a married President."

"You know that's not what I'm suggesting, but being seen with an eligible man wouldn't hurt your campaign either."

Right now, she viewed dating more as a distraction than a necessity. And truthfully, even if she did decide to date, she doubted she'd be able to give any relationship her full attention. She was also wary of anyone who would ask her out right now. If she was successful in her bid for the Presidency, the prestige and the influence that being the First Husband could bring was an attractive package for many an opportunist to take advantage of. She honestly believed she'd be suspicious of any man's motives towards her.

"I know what you're thinking, Joss. But who's to say you can't meet a good guy in the process?" Harold's face softened as he put a hand on her arm. "Candidacy aside, it has been a while since you lost Paul. It is time you got back out there. Try and find some happiness of your own."

She knew he meant well, but her thoughts travelled back to those she had last night when she wondered why fate decided to thrust John into her life at the most inopportune time in the world.

"Just think about it."

"In the mean time, get out of my room so I can get dressed. How'd you get up those stairs, anyway?"

"Believe me, it wasn't easy."

* * *

><p>It had been so unexpectedly intimate, but when Reese entered the Senator's residence the next morning he was still thinking of the conversation they'd had just the night before. She'd been the last thing on his mind before going to bed, and she was the first thing he'd thought about when he woke up. He hadn't realized he had a silly smile on his face until he got a curious stare from Groves as he set foot in the foyer. The younger agent was used to his usual stoic expression and not the softened one he had now. Agent Olsen had been reassigned, and his two replacements flanked Reese as they all moved further in.<p>

"Good morning Reese," Groves said.

"Sam," he responded, watching him come downstairs. "Good morning. Where is she?"

"She's in the kitchen with her campaign manager and her assistant right now. Taylor's up in his room, and Mrs. Ward is having brunch with a friend," Groves informed him, and he nodded. "All posts are secure."

"Thank you, Sam. You're relieved," Reese said, patting him on the arm. "Go on, enjoy your day."

"Yes, sir."

Reese made his way to the kitchen, and found the three of them huddled at the island in the middle of conversation while they had a late breakfast. They were all dressed down. Business attire was gone, and in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved cotton top, the Senator looked more like a young college graduate than a mother and presidential candidate. She smiled when she saw him, and the recollection in her eyes of the moment they shared was evident for the briefest of seconds. She quickly recovered, casting curious eyes at the agents that came in with him.

"Good morning, John," she said, and for a moment, conversation halted.

"Good morning, ma'am," he said. "Mr. Finch, Ms. Shaw." He waited as they spoke, Ms. Shaw grunting out the pleasantry rather than speaking it.

"Are those the two agents you were telling me about last night?" the Senator asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Two new agents? Why on earth are you getting two new agents?"

The Senator turned to her campaign manager explaining that Taylor would have two agents now instead of one. When she looked at Reese again, he made the introductions.

"Senator, this is Agent Anthony Marconi and Agent Charles Burton."

Joss looked them over as she shook their hands. Marconi stood a little taller than her, was easy on the eyes, had olive skin, and a deep voice. There was something about his demeanor that hinted of danger, a menace that existed right under the surface. He had a scar that ran from his right eye down the side of his face. She wondered when he got it, whether it was before or after he'd joined the service. Charles Burton, in her opinion, was the exact opposite. He looked very unassuming, and his handshake was very warm. He had an easy smile that lit up his round face and cheeks, and with his wire framed glasses, he reminded her more of a high school teacher than an agent in the Secret Service.

"Taylor's still upstairs in his room. He's grounded for the next two and a half weeks," Joss said. "It should have been longer, but I'm sure he's learned his lesson by now. The most you two will be doing for a while is tailing him to and from school. Hopefully you'll be able to keep up with him better than Olsen did."

"They most definitely will," Reese promised, and cast a gaze at the both of them. He was counting on them to do a much better job than their predecessor.

"Don't you worry about a thing, ma'am," Agent Marconi said.

"We won't let him out of our sight," Agent Burton said. When John nodded in approval, she felt a lot better.

"You know, it'd be good idea to prepare a brief statement about Taylor's disappearance," said Sameen. "Just in case the story gets leaked. I know last night we managed to avoid any press, but better safe than sorry."

"She's right Joss," Harold said. "Ms. Shaw, give Daniel a call. Tell him -"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," she said, interrupting.

"Wait a minute, Joss," Harold said, looking at his watch. "It's almost time. The interview's about to start." He brushed past her and Sameen followed, her breakfast plate and coffee in hand.

"I'm right behind you," Joss said. "Come on, John. Gentlemen."

He looked down at Senator Carter as she fell in step next to him. "An important story's about to break," she explained. There was something in her eyes, a pang of guilt maybe? Trepidation? At the moment he couldn't give a name to it. "This is where the fun begins."

Fun was an understatement. He followed them all to the den, and the hour and a half they spent in front of the television watching an interview on CNN and correspondent commentary afterwards was the calm before the storm. The house erupted with activity, everyone's cell phone went off, and the Senator gave comments to over a dozen news outlets.

From there on out the quiet morning they'd had turned into an extremely busy day. More of her campaign staff arrived over the course of the day. Sometimes they stayed in her office, other times they moved to the den, but between meetings and phone calls, and statements given, she didn't get a moment's rest until the sun finally started to set.

He'd silently watched her throughout the day, seen her transform into a political animal that was focused and steady, but he watched her change just as quickly to a mother once her son waltzed into her office around 7 o'clock. She left her seat and hugged him, planting a quick kiss to his forehead. Though he seemed slightly embarrassed, he smiled and hugged her back. John thought that it was a nice tender moment between mother and son and indicative of the strong family values that some news outlets had started to accuse her of not having today. It was a campaign concern, and the issue had been raised today by her team along with proposals on how to fix it.

But in addition to the scandal that broke earlier in the morning about her political rival, the upcoming Military Wives and Widow's Luncheon was discussed. It was taking place on the following Tuesday. He expected picketers outside the venue, namely The Aryan Brotherhood Foundation, and he knew he would have to brief his team on their need to be extra vigilant.

Taylor was talking about food, and while they both discussed what dinner would be, her eyes met his across the room. It wasn't more than a few seconds, and the nod she gave him was almost imperceptible, but he ran his hand slowly down the lapel of his jacket as a way to expel a little of the charged energy that had instantly encompassed him.

"Mom! Can we talk about pizza, though?"

"What?" she asked, slowly tearing her eyes away from Reese's to focus on Taylor again.

"I want pizza."

"Go and ask grandma what she wants, first. Maybe we can get Vittorio's to deliver," she suggested.

"As long as they got pizza, they're fine with me."

Joss watched Taylor as he sprinted up the stairs and shook her head. He seemed better today, seemed more himself, and she was glad. She knew it wouldn't all be smooth sailing, but she was satisfied that for now the tension that had come between them had dissipated significantly.

She took a look around the room. Harold and Sameen were still in the den, her speechwriter Daniel was in her office revising her speech for the luncheon, and there were agents littered about the house and outside the front door. Standing not more than twenty feet away from her was John. It was weird that he was always close-by and at the same time always at a distance. But she was glad he was there. And even though he didn't speak all that much to her during the day, his silence said so much. His eyes told her that he was here, and when she watched his hands twitch at his sides she could almost feel his fingers sliding over hers again.

"John," she said, and walked over to him.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Let me know what you and your men are having tonight. For dinner. My treat."

"That's very generous of you ma'am, but you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, John. But the Taylor incident aside, you've all been doing a good job so far," she said. "I want to."

Her hand on his arm was the lightest of touches, much as it was last night when she caressed his index finger. His throat went dry, he couldn't move. Why was it so easy for her to hold him in place? Take his breath away?

She took a step backward at the sound of Taylor rapidly coming down the stairs, and she dropped her hand to her side.

"Grandma wants her usual from Vittorio's, and I want a pizza," he said. "I want pepperoni, I want sausage, I want ham, and I want -"

"Stop, stop, stop." She waved her hand to emphasize each word. "You can have your pizza, Taylor. Okay?"

"A large pizza, mom."

She turned to Reese again, and in an instant he saw the slight change in her eyes when she looked at him. "John, just let Sameen know what you gentlemen want and she'll place the order."

"Thank you ma'am," he said, and watched her head to the den. Taylor stood by his side for a moment quietly regarding him.

"So…you're the guy responsible for sending the search and rescue crew after me last night?"

"Guilty as charged," he answered.

"Sorry about that. It's not one of my finer moments, but I'm sure you can appreciate why I did it."

"You mean if I understand how you might want to escape the confines of your life and be free to do what you want? Even if it's just for a little while?"

"Yeah, something like that," Taylor said, nodding.

"Then, yes. I can definitely relate."

Taylor nodded again, happy that they'd reached an understanding. "Hey, besides pizza, Vittorio's has a mean Italian sub. Also try the loaded fries, and tell Sameen you want a slice of their chocolate cake too."

"Really?" Reese asked, his sweet tooth waking up at the sound of the chocolate cake.

"Mouth. Watering," Taylor said. "You won't regret it."

Joss looked up just in time to see Taylor firmly slap John on the shoulder just before he headed upstairs. Even though he didn't seem shocked at the unexpected gesture, she still wondered if he was comfortable with Taylor's sometimes abrupt acts of affection.

"I'm so sorry about that," she said, walking over to him again. "Once he likes someone he can get carried away."

"So it's safe to say I got his stamp of approval then."

"Only took a few weeks, but yeah, I guess you have," Joss said, smiling. She seemed to do a lot of that when he was around, while he seemed to do his best to suppress his.

"It's alright, ma'am. I'm a Ranger, remember? It'll take more than that to knock me down."

There was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke, but he walked away without saying another word. She rejoined Harold and Sameen in the living room, and she tried to take her mind off of John and just how strong he really was.

* * *

><p>Tuesday ~ Military Wives &amp; Widows Luncheon, the Ritz Carlton, Central Park<p>

"We have an extraordinary group here today. We've got moms who served in Iraq and Afghanistan. We've got military wives…partners and widows who've moved across the country again and again. We have grandmothers who helped take care of the kids while mom or dad or both were deployed."

All eyes were on the Senator as she stood on stage at The Ritz Carlton and addressed a crowd of a little over two hundred women. The ballroom they were in was decorated with tables, brightly coloured table linens and floral arrangements, banners, and every other trimming to show appreciation for the guests for the afternoon.

Additional tables lined the walls to the right and were adorned with weighted balloons, gift bags, and various awards that would be given out after the speech and meal were done. And to the left of the stage was a grand piano.

Besides Burton and Marconi who were both at home with Taylor, all the other agents were with Reese here at the event, as was Mrs. Ward who had joined her daughter this afternoon. She was seated up front at a table with the Senator's team. Harold Finch was riveted as she spoke, his eyes never leaving her. He beamed almost with paternal pride as the audience responded positively to her speech. She had them all eating out of the palm of her hand with her wit, her heart and the conviction of her words.

"As military moms, you're doing so much, not just for your families, but for your communities and our country. Most people don't know that," she noted. "You are the ones with husbands deployed, and you're still driving the carpool and volunteering, joining neighbourhood organizations, working with your congregations to prepare care packages for other people. You're also the ones, like me, who after burying a spouse…keep doing what you're doing because you have people at home who still depend on you."

After her last words, sniffling could be heard throughout the room. Applause soon followed, and when she moved to join her mother's table, Mrs. Ward got up and embraced her. Reese swallowed at the lump in his throat, knowing that she identified with the women she was speaking to. For her, it wasn't just lip service. She was the real deal.

A singer was introduced by the host and provided some entertainment before the awards and gifts were distributed. At the end of it, there were a lot of handshakes, hugs, smiles, and from what Reese heard as he hovered nearby, the luncheon was a success.

By 3pm Joss was ready to leave. She nodded at John, indicating the same and as usual she watched him expertly 'rally his troops' and they all made their way to the exit. The guests in the lobby momentarily paused to let her pass, and outside the cars were already running, waiting for her to get in. Barricades were set up near the front door, an obstruction she was grateful for. Entering the hotel earlier in the afternoon had gone without incident, but The Aryan Brotherhood Foundation was there, their signs in plain view, their insults quite vocal.

Still, despite their presence which was more bark than bite, she felt the day had gone quite well. Better than she expected. She lingered a little longer than was necessary before getting into the car, waving to her supporters who even though they hadn't been to the event, still wanted to show solidarity.

She relaxed, she smiled, she even shook a few hands. She felt like her campaign was gaining true momentum finally when out of nowhere something struck her in the face. Everything after that happened so fast. She could hear screams from the crowd, the sound of her own heart beating. She felt liquid running down her face, her neck and down her clothes. When she opened her eyes they stung, and she blinked furiously at whatever red substance it was that she'd been hit with.

When she stumbled, she felt an arm around her waist, holding her steady. She couldn't see who it was that was holding her, but she could hear the voice clearly.

"Senator, I've got you."

It was John. Everything was a blur, but in just a few moments, she was in the back seat of the car and they were moving. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jacket, trying to clear her skin and eyes of the liquid that felt like it was hardening.

"What is it?" she asked, not even aware of who was in the car with her. She could barely see.

"It's okay, Senator. I'm here." John's voice was a welcome sound in her ear. She thought he'd stayed behind at the hotel. She was glad she wasn't in the car alone.

"What did they hit me with?" she asked again, this time more insistently. Tears were mingling with whatever the liquid was. It had a chemical odor to it. She wondered if it was paint.

"It was a balloon with red paint ma'am."

She nodded when he confirmed her suspicions, still wiping her sleeve across her face. "My mother, Harold, where…."

"They'll be following us in the other car, but ma'am, if you could lie back, I'll flush your eyes for you."

In a red haze she saw the look on his face. Whenever they rode in the car he was always in the front seat. He was never in the back with her. She looked past him and saw that there was another agent up front with the driver. It was hard to identify them since she still couldn't see, but she realized John had broken protocol to sit in the back with her. He was still in contact with the other agents on site, still issuing instructions while he was taking her to safety. But after a moment, he vacated the seat next to her and knelt on the floor of the car.

"Ma'am?"

She swallowed hard and laid back while he poured water into her eyes. She didn't question where he got it from or how he'd gained access to so much of it so quickly. The car was bulletproof and came with other specs; she guessed this was just one of them. Thankfully, after a few minutes the stinging subsided, and she could see better. She still felt minor irritation but for the moment it was bearable.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah. I'm good," she responded, and sat upright.

There was water dripping down her face, her hair, and down her suit. She frowned thinking she must look a mess. Before she had a chance to use her sleeve again, John handed her a folded hanky. He wouldn't look at her, kept his face straight ahead while she took it from him. But even while she listened as he continued to bark out instructions, she saw something in his eyes. He was still on his A game, was still alert, still vigilant, but he was worried. About her.

Her phone went off, and she wished she could ignore it. Wished she could tell John to take her anywhere else than home right now, but she couldn't. Harold was on the line, concerned about her, asking questions, and telling her that he'd already called her doctor. He was meeting them at the house, and she would see them soon. She absently wiped at her face and eyes, held the handkerchief to her nose inhaling the faint scent of John's cologne.

When they pulled in front of the house she shrugged out of her jacket. She stepped out of the car and stumbled again once her feet hit the ground. Her shoe heel had broken. She took it off, walking lopsidedly to the front door and kissed her teeth. She made a beeline for her office, hearing the agents file through the house, performing checks like they normally did. She closed her eyes the minute she sat down in her chair behind her desk, enjoying the last bit of silence before it was interrupted. She'd wanted to come home after the luncheon, relax with her mom and her son. It was definitely not going to happen now.

* * *

><p>Reese stood outside the Senator's bedroom door staring at the wall. His mouth was a rigid line, his jaw tense, and his mind was going a mile a minute. All day he replayed the incident in his mind while he had to watch her from a distance. He saw the splatter in her face because he hadn't caught the balloon in time. But he made sure the second and third one had missed their mark, and they hit the pavement instead. The assailant had been quickly taken down and subdued.<p>

Williamson, although notably confused when he was ordered to sit in front while Reese sat in back with the Senator, slid in the passenger seat besides Groves without asking any questions. He was grateful for his silent acquiescence though he feared the matter might rear its head in the future. After getting home she was surrounded by her family and her campaign manager, and after getting cleaned up she still managed to give a statement to the press about not being intimidated despite what happened to her.

He was in awe.

He didn't know where her strength came from. He never had to imagine what it was like for anyone to tell him he couldn't do something because of the colour of his skin. He had no way of understanding it or identifying with it, but he was interested in hearing from her how she managed to carry on in spite of it. No matter how ugly things had gotten today, or how ugly they had been before he had even come into the picture, she still carried on. Still held her head up high. And when Taylor came to hug her before she went to bed, he knew at least part of the reason why. She wanted to be an example for him. To show him that he could be strong like her, could still live with dignity and grace. She wanted to show him that he deserved to grasp at any opportunity before him despite people telling him that he wasn't good enough to do so.

It hit him hard. Like bricks thrown at his chest. He wanted to comfort her. Tell her she was going to be okay. He stood there overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, feeling frustrated, yet still determined to keep watch over her.

The bedroom door opened quietly next to him, and he turned quickly. The smell of soap and flowers escaped the room and filled the long hallway. He felt physically wrapped up in it, like an embrace he sadly couldn't reciprocate. She was already dressed for bed wearing a mint green pajama set and he could see her toes peeking out from underneath the hem of the bottoms. Her hair was braided to the side and hung over her shoulder.

"Ma'am?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, quietly.

He waited for her to go on, but when she stepped away from the door he realized she wanted him to come into her room. He took a step inside, and she closed the door after him. He clocked the layout of the room quickly; saw her four poster bed, the mounted flat screen, the walk-in closet, the armoire. He heard the click as she locked the door and he turned. She suddenly seemed so small, so delicate.

_He wanted to hold her. _

"Are you okay?"

"No," she answered. Her voice was hauntingly quiet. "I've been pretending to be okay all day because I didn't want my mother to worry. I didn't want my son to worry. I couldn't let Finch know how badly I was shaken up. But I…"

She took a deep breath as she looked at him, as if she was scared of what to do next. Inside her office he could be professional. In her kitchen, he could allow himself to smile. To laugh with her, even touch her hand. In her bedroom, however, whatever this thing was between them was becoming more real than either of them had planned for.

As they stared at each other, he knew she was feeling the same thing. Finally she pushed away from the door. With every slow step she took, the invisible thread that had kept them both at a distance became shorter and shorter. She finally stood in front of him, her chest to his, and leaned her forehead against it. He let out a long breath when he felt her take his hand, breathed in hard when she twined her fingers with his.

"John?"

Her voice was soft when she called his name. Almost pleading as she squeezed his hands.

"Hold me."

She sniffled, and the sound almost broke his heart. He put his arms around her and felt her finally release the pretense she'd been carrying around all day. He felt her soften as she leaned into him. Her arms moved under his jacket and around his waist, and she buried her face into his chest, gripping him.

"It's okay, Joss. You're not alone."

The minute he said her name she started to cry. Her shoulders rocked with silent sobs and he cradled her head in his hand while he rubbed her back.

"It's okay. I've still got you."

He closed his eyes, relieved that he finally said it, but he lamented that they had crossed a line that they both knew they shouldn't have. Still he couldn't regret how good she felt in his arms, against his body. He couldn't deny what her hands on his back were doing to him.

He needed to leave before things got completely out of control. But her hands moved from his back to his chest. Sliding higher and higher until they were in the back of his neck, fingers digging softly into his nape. He swallowed, groaning miserably. He cupped her cheeks as she looked into his eyes, searching, seeking.

He bent his head, could feel her breath on his face. She was standing on her toes, lips parted, grabbing at his shoulder, pulling him closer.

"John."

Her lips were so close. So close they almost touched. He closed his eyes for a second, and gently pulled her hands from around his neck. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life, but he took a step back before letting them go.

It took a while for him to find his voice, and when he finally did, it came out as a croak. "Ma'am….I'm sorry. We can't."

Her chest was heaving, and the anticipation she'd felt started to deflate like a balloon with no air. Joss felt embarrassed, she felt like a fool, and the terror she experienced earlier in the day was preferable to the shame that poured over her now.

She couldn't look at him anymore. She couldn't. She'd made a huge mistake. Huge. And she was mortified.

"Go," she said, folding her arms around herself. "Go," she repeated, forcefully this time. "Just go."

She didn't move when he walked around her to leave. She didn't say anything else. She simply wanted him gone, wanted him out of the room before he saw the fresh tears that started to run down her face.

* * *

><p>AN Parts of Carter's speech were taken from one that Michelle Obama gave at the White House's Mother's Day Tea for Military Spouses held on May 12th 2014.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thank you to my beta, Fanu.

**Disclaimer ~ Nothing you see belongs to me.

* * *

><p>"Where is she?"<p>

Reese listened to Agent Bingham as he answered the question that had been on his mind since he first woke up this morning. He'd made a mistake. A huge one. And he needed to make it right as soon as possible. What he was truly struggling with, what he didn't really know was exactly how he was going to accomplish that. Bingham said that although she had yet to emerge from her bedroom, she wasn't asleep. There'd been movement in her room since shortly before 6am.

With her locator and daily itinerary in hand, Reese walked past him and headed up the stairs. Memories of last night flashed through his mind - the look on her face when he'd pushed her away, the hurt and rejection and then the embarrassment that coloured her cheeks. He swore silently, wishing he'd had a chance to explain before she kicked him out, her bruised feelings having gotten the best of her. Now he wondered how much longer it would be before they'd have a private moment so that he could make things clear. The time last night was a rare one indeed even though the circumstances that'd caused it were not. He was afraid that a new barrier would form between them because of how badly things had ended. He desperately didn't want that to happen. He knocked on her door softly, hearing the halt of footsteps across the carpet, then the continuation of them as they approached the door.

Joss had just decided on a belted green sleeveless dress and camel coloured cardigan when she heard the knock. She opened it to see John gazing at her with an expectant look on his face. She found that incredibly ironic given the way he'd reacted last night when they'd been on the verge of sharing a kiss. It was bad enough to come to the realization that he wasn't as interested as she thought he was, despite what they'd shared with one another or the conversations they'd had. It all felt terribly one sided, and she wished she could go back in time and do it all over again. But now he was at her bedroom door looking half apologetic and almost as if he was in anticipation of being invited in once more. The latter was not going to happen no matter how handsome he looked or how good he smelled or how good it had felt when he held her in his arms.

Reese's eyes swept over her, quickly taking in her appearance. She was still in her pajamas, her robe, and though she was sleepy-eyed with her hair strewn about her shoulders, she had an early morning glow about her. He thought that she was an adorable tousled mess.

"Good morning, ma'am."

She met his gaze only briefly and found a spot on his shoulder to stare at. "Good morning, Agent Reese." Her voice was still tinged with sleep, and she drew the silk belt of her robe tighter around her waist.

Some of the hope he initially felt when he entered the house this morning died after being so formally addressed by her. They seemed to be back at the beginning.

"Your locator, ma'am. And your brief for today."

She took them quickly, straightening up a little and finally looked him in the eye again. "Thank you."

Without another word she took a step back and closed the door. The breeze that hit him in the face equally matched her demeanor.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

* * *

><p>Joss could smell the rich aroma of coffee the moment she stepped out of her room and entered the hallway. She walked past John, barely looking at him out of the corner of her eye and heard him softly following her down the stairs. She walked into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of the delicious brew, enjoying the robust taste as it swept over her tongue. Her mother sat at the island reading the paper, and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of her face.<p>

"Morning, mom."

"Good morning, Joss," she answered, lowering the paper to look at her as she sat down beside her. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm better," she said, mustering up a smile.

"All thanks to Agent Reese here. You want some coffee?" Evelyn asked, acknowledging Reese as he hovered nearby.

"No, ma'am. Thank you."

Joss clenched her jaw, her teeth gnashing together, feeling suddenly angry. Angry at herself for caring about this man in such a short period of time and angry at him for being so damn cordial and nice when he hadn't been so nice to her the night before. She took a deep breath, deciding to take another sip of her coffee, swallowing its warmth along with her feelings.

"I really appreciate you taking care of my daughter yesterday, Agent Reese. I don't know what we would have done without you and your men there."

"Thankfully it's something we didn't have to think about yesterday, ma'am" he answered and Joss was glad that Taylor picked that moment to walk in, providing a welcome disruption to the beginning of a conversation she wasn't interesting in listening to. He stood in the back of her putting his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. She gave a side eye to his affection, but grinned as she realized they were incentives for her to think about ending his punishment sooner than she'd established it for. He was so adorable when he begged, and as he made her some eggs and toast she couldn't help but silently admit that she was thinking of giving in.

It was almost 7:15, time to leave for school and before he left with Agents Burton and Marconi in tow, he asked her to reconsider once more while promising that his antics the week prior were a thing of the past. Her mother got up since it was time for her to leave too. She had a class at nine at Columbia and traffic was always bad at this time of the morning. When the two of them left, Joss couldn't help but notice how empty and quiet the house felt despite the fact that she was not alone and had four agents in the house with her. She spent about a half an hour in her home office before she headed to her campaign headquarters.

She slid into the backseat of the car outside and looked out the window, twirling her locator between her fingers. Groves was with John in front at the wheel, and the other agents trailed them in a car in back. She intentionally didn't look forward and instead stared at the city outside through tinted windows. In the past she would make eye contact with him in the rear view mirror, watch the miniscule curve of his high cheekbones and celebrate the fact that she'd brought a smile to his otherwise serious face. Today however, she couldn't do it. Last night had been embarrassing enough for her. The last thing she wanted to do was let him see how horrible she still felt.

She focused her attention on the folder on her lap, going over her itinerary for the day. She realized that she was supposed to have dinner with her best friend Liz tonight. They had known each other since college. Had stood in each other's weddings. They had gone through a great deal together, and while they had their ups and downs, Liz was one of the few people she could really be herself with. There was no need to pretend. Liz accepted her as she was, flaws and all.

"Oh my goodness," she muttered while she dialed Liz's number. She hadn't spoken to her since last week. And the last few days had been so busy she had almost forgotten about tonight. Her call was answered almost immediately.

"Joss! Girl, I saw the story on the news. I've been trying to reach you since yesterday. How are you? What happened?" She smiled at the concern in her friend's voice.

"Mrs. Szymanski..." Joss said, grinning, and drawing out her name in a high pitched voice that dripped with mischief. "It's so good to hear your voice! It has been so crazy around the house. I'm okay though, really. It looked much worse than it really was."

"What in the hell was it that they threw at you?"

"It was red paint," she answered, shaking her head at the memory. "But aside from some eye-drops the doctor gave me, I'm fine. I'm more upset that I broke one of my damn Jimmy Choos."

Liz laughed. "Well, at least you still got your sense of humor. That definitely isn't broken. Bill and I watched it on the news. Thank God for the Secret Service."

"Yeah. I was lucky." She finally looked up, glanced at her rearview mirror. Almost as if he'd sensed it, Reese stared back at her before she quickly looked away.

"Are you sure you're alright? I mean you're okay physically, but…how are you? I mean really?"

"You know me. I just keep on going, Liz."

It was all she would say for now, especially since she wasn't alone in the car. The sound Liz made on the other line however, let her know that she didn't really believe her.

"I was scared you were calling to cancel on me. If you had, you know I was coming to look for you."

"Aww…I appreciate that hon. But, no. I wouldn't dare cancel. In fact I was calling to confirm. I miss you so much. And Bill. It's been too long since we hung out."

"I miss you too. And we need to catch up. Dinner starts at seven. Don't be late."

"Definitely won't be late. In fact I have to be there a little earlier, since I'm bringing _friends_ with me."

"Friends?"

"_My_ _Secret Service friends_. Who have to do a sweep of your house."

"Oh! Well do they have to search everything? Bill and I have a collection of a few…items of the more _personal_ nature that I'd rather they not find."

"Oh my God! Liz! That is an image that I will never be able to get out of my mind. How could you do that to me?"

When she laughed again, she drew stares from the front seat, but she didn't care. It had been a long time since she'd had a belly laugh like this. It was long overdue.

"Well, I'm sorry. But you know there's no TMI when it comes to me and you. I guess I'll just have to pack them neatly away where nobody can find them."

"I'll see you later, girl," Joss said, still laughing.

"Can't wait," Liz said, and laughed again too. "Bring our usual."

"Okay, I will," Joss replied, and said goodbye.

Their _usual_ was a bottle of St. Eden, a red wine made by Bond. It was more than a little pricey, but it was an indulgence she felt they both needed. The laughter made her feel lighter, better, and she was glad she'd called. She really was looking forward to seeing Liz tonight.

* * *

><p>As expected, when she set foot in the entrance of her campaign headquarters Harold was there to meet her. She slowed down to accommodate his limp, something that she knew he secretly appreciated.<p>

"You know, Harold, you don't always have to meet me at the door," she said, as she looked over at him.

"We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to waste," he replied as they navigated the hallway together. "Namely Donnelly, who is expected to make an announcement on the six o'clock news tomorrow."

She stopped and turned to him. "And just where did you get that info?"

"I have my sources."

"What do you think he's going to say?"

"What else can he say except due to the recent scandal he's going to withdraw his candidacy to focus on repairing the broken trust in his marriage?"

"And we'll be just one step closer." She couldn't have done it without him. He was one of her biggest supporters. And no one on her team had worked as hard as he had so far. No one except her. "This is cause for celebration."

"Well a little one at least."

She waved a good morning to her staff before they rounded the corner to her office. Once they were inside, Finch pushed a newspaper in her direction.

"You made the papers this morning. And above the fold, at that."

He smiled as she scanned the article. It talked about the success of her luncheon and then the paint throwing incident right after. There were photos of her speech at the event, and then one of her being ushered into the back seat of her car. She stared at the photo of John's hand around her waist as she blindly made her way inside. It was an episode she didn't want to relive.

"You are alright, aren't you?"

"I'm good," she said, and went to sit behind her desk.

"Thanks to your watch dog," he said, gesturing to the door. John stood just outside the door, well within earshot of the conversation.

"Don't call him that." The last time Finch had said it, she was quick to call him on it. Today, even though embarrassment still held her tightly in its grip, she couldn't let it slide. He noticed. She wished he didn't, but he noticed everything. It was why he was good at what he did. He gazed between her and John outside and slowly shut the door. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Nothing's the matter. I'll tell you what though; I need to take some time off. Next weekend. Or the week after. I need a break, and I promised Taylor that we'd go away for at least a couple of days so I need you to make it happen."

He looked at her skeptically, but she kept her face unreadable as she scribbled something onto a post-it. "Give this to Sameen. Tell her I want two bottles. And ask them to deliver it here today by 4pm. At the latest."

"_St. Eden_?"

"Yes. I'm having dinner with Liz tonight, and that's my contribution."

"Expensive contribution," he muttered under his breath, staring at the post-it. "Well, after what happened yesterday, I will admit that some time off is…permissible. I'll check on those numbers for Florida. And before you leave today we need to discuss the fundraiser next month."

"Of course we do," she said.

When he left the office, she turned her eyes to John. He stood impossibly straight next to her open office door. No doubt he heard much of the conversation including her slight defence of him when Harold called him a dog. She probably should have spoken to him before her day here had even started. They needed to talk about last night, and the quicker she dealt with it, the quicker they could both move on.

"Agent Reese."

He turned around the moment she called his name, his body filling the door frame easily.

"Ma'am?"

"Can you come in for a second? Close the door," she said, when he idled in front of it. "Have a seat."

When he did, she got up and walked around her desk and sat on the edge. The advantage of looking down at him while perched atop it made her feel a little better.

"I owe you an apology for last night."

He looked confused. "An apology?"

"What I did and said was inappropriate and I put you in an uncomfortable position that ended up being particularly embarrassing for the both of us. The events of the day got the better of me and because of it I acted out of emotion instead of logic. I can understand if you no longer want to be a part of my detail, and if you do want to leave, I'll give you a glowing recommendation. If you decide to stay, I can promise you that what happened last night will never happen again."

Joss kept her face straight, succeeding in not showing a hint of what she was truly feeling on the inside. It hurt to look at him. It hurt to be in the same room with him, especially when a small part of her still remembered what it had felt like when he'd held her. But she'd resolved to put it behind her as best as she could. She wondered if he _would_ leave. It wasn't what she wanted. He'd taken good care of her so far and she was getting used to having him around. She was comfortable around him. She wanted him to stay even if all her reasons weren't purely professional ones.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his legs apart, and though she wanted to look away, she made herself hold his gaze. She looked down at his hands, the finger he rapped on his thigh and she crossed her arms in front of her. Embarrassed or not, she hated to admit to herself that still felt drawn to him.

Reese had looked for a chance, any small opening that would allow him to explain what had happened the evening prior. But the moment she walked past him outside her bedroom door and made a beeline for the kitchen he knew that might not be a possibility. She sat atop her desk now with her arms crossed - a defensive stance - one he guessed she felt she needed while she spoke to him. Her face was a cool mask of control, and he could tell she fought hard to conceal what was really underneath.

"Ma'am, there's nothing for you to apologize for. In fact you misunderstood -"

"Agent Reese if you don't mind, I'd rather not rehash any of it. In fact, I insist that we don't. It wasn't one of my finer moments, and I just really want to put it behind me. I want to forget it happened, and I want to move on."

If she would just let him explain, maybe she would understand. But from the look in her eye, she was trying to maintain as much control as she possibly could. This was all she had. She had allowed him to see what was behind the mask, and when she let her guard down she felt as if he had thrown it back in her face. Anything he said now would only make it worse, not better. His hands were tied.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up. He towered over her for a second, standing almost as close as they had in her bedroom. "It would be my pleasure to continue to serve you, ma'am. I'll stay on your team for as long as you'll have me."

She nodded, and he was sure he saw her breathe a sigh of relief before she recovered. "Good. Maybe we can start from the beginning. A clean slate if you will." She managed to smile at him for a moment, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He knew a clean slate wasn't what either of them wanted, but it would have to do. for now.

* * *

><p>When Sameen had reminded him earlier of the Senator's dinner date, Reese swallowed hard. He knew he had no right to feel jealous. The dynamic in their relationship had shifted, and the line that had been crossed between them was erased the moment she called him Agent Reese again. But when she descended the stairs in her house wearing an off the shoulder red dress and her hair over her shoulders he was glad she would be in the company of her best female friend and not a potential suitor. He'd been speechless at the sight of her, had inhaled her perfume as she sat in the back of the car on the drive to Brooklyn and once they got to Cobble Hill he opened the door and allowed his gaze to linger on her behind his sunglasses.<p>

He watched her from a distance over dinner. She seemed totally at ease with her friends, and her laughter rang out through the house. She was light, carefree, and it was almost as if she'd shed the persona as soon as she walked through Liz's door and was just a regular woman having dinner with friends. He listened to her tell jokes, and when they sat down in the den to watch TV, the Szymanski's obliged her request that they not watch the news. Instead of the campaign they talked about Taylor, Bill Syzmanski's job at the 8th precinct in Manhattan, and how Liz had recently made equity partner at her law firm.

By the end of the evening, Bill had a beer in his hand and was planted in front of the TV while Senator Carter and Liz took their half empty wine glasses out onto the verandah on the side of the house. Reese stood to the far end while they talked, and when he caught sight of a strand of her hair falling over her face, his hands twitched at his side as he watched her tuck it behind her ear.

* * *

><p>"I'm so happy for you with the promotion and all. It's about time," Joss said. With her shoes on the ground beneath the cushioned porch swing they both sat on, she drew her feet underneath her. She looped her arm through Liz's, laying her head on her shoulder.<p>

"It _is_. And you know it hasn't been easy. Michaelson still side eyes me sometimes when I walk into the board room. He's polite with his prejudiced smile, but he's never liked me, dark skin and 4C hair and all. Not to mention they've always treated their partnership like some boy's club."

"They never wanted to let you in. But they had to."

"Yup. The rich clients I kept bringing in were incentive enough I guess."

"Finally."

"But just look at us, chipping away at that glass ceiling. One crack at a time."

"We did good," Joss said.

"Yes, we did. And now you're on your way to the White House."

"Ugh…no talk about the White House tonight. You promised."

"I know, I know. But I know how you are. You pretend that everything is fine, but underneath it all…..it's another story. I know you don't trust that many people to see underneath that tough exterior, but this is me, Joss."

She sighed, knowing just how right Liz really was. She'd been strong for everyone, Taylor, her mother, even Harold and Sameen. She didn't have the luxury of breaking down right now, not when there was still so much left to do. She had to stay focused. Still, even though the evening had been a lovely escape from reality, she knew she couldn't run forever.

"I was scared," she admitted, softly. "I was really scared. And even though I knew what I'd been up against, I guess the day had gone so well I didn't expect anything to go wrong. I mean, I was lucky it was only paint, right? But it felt like it was a reminder that I wasn't good enough, and for some people I never would be."

"It's alright to be scared. And you wouldn't be human if you said these attacks didn't make you feel less than good enough sometimes. But you know that you are. You're more than good enough. And these Aryan fools along with Michaelson can go take a long walk off a short pier. Honey, they're not worth it. They're just afraid of how great you can be if you succeed."

She squeezed Liz's hands in her lap and blinked away at tears that started to pool in her eyes. "Don't you go making me cry on this porch. My makeup looks too good, and I look too cute tonight to cry."

"There you go 'Ms. I'm too cute'," Liz responded, chuckling. "I am glad you had the Secret Service with you."

"Even though they had to search your house when they got here tonight?" Joss asked.

"Well, because they did it for your safety I'm okay with it. But the one that helped you into the car did a good job of stopping the other two that they threw at you."

"What?"

"There were three balloons, girl. He deflected the others. It all happened so fast."

How did she not know? In all the reports she'd listened to about what happened, for some reason she'd missed it. She glanced over at him as he stood near the wooden railing. He had heard every word. She knew.

"You know what you need though, right?" Liz asked draining her glass.

"What?"

"When was the last time you got some?"

"Liz…" Joss muttered under her breath and immediately looked in John's direction wondering if he'd heard them.

"Well, I wasn't gonna suggest him, but he _is_ easy on the eyes, he's tall…got big feet. What did you say his name was again?"

"Girl, stop."

"Bill's feet are bigger though."

Liz laughed as Joss put her hand over her mouth, smothering whatever she was about to say next.

"Liz!"

Bill's voice came from inside startling the both of them.

"What is it, honey?" she asked.

"Phone call. I think it's your office."

Joss straightened up beside her and watched her friend approach the sliding door. Bill kissed her before handing her the phone and while her conversation started he playfully teased the back o her neck. She smiled at their affection but looked away when he slid his arms around her waist. Despite Liz's teasing, she was right again. It had been a long time. She'd grown so accustomed to being on her own for a while, most days she didn't give it a second thought. Until lately.

"Bill…"

She listened as Liz whispered his name, but after a few moments she had to end her call as he dragged her onto the couch. She protested once more, reminding him that they had company, but her words died out and Joss chuckled.

Yeah, they had company, she admitted to herself, but time was short. One day your loved one was here and the next they weren't. She couldn't begrudge them a little time alone. She got off the porch swing and put her shoes back on. She put her glass on the wooden railing, stepped off the porch and onto the cobble stone pathway in the yard. A rush of wind picked up and she rubbed her bare arms. She turned her head, hearing John behind her. He was never far behind. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Groves and Miller accompany them in opposite directions a good distance away.

"I wasn't rejecting you."

His words stopped her in her tracks, and Reese stared at the profile of her face, the sudden slump of her shoulders. He couldn't stop himself from saying it. The abrupt absence of her friend and the open area of the Szymanski's yard provided the perfect opportunity for him to finally explain. The distance between them and the other agents assured him that they wouldn't be heard, and he had to say something before Liz came back.

"I wasn't. I wanted nothing more than to hold you, to…"

She let out a sigh but didn't answer. Instead she walked over to the pond a few yards away and stood next to it. He could hear the soft flow of water, see the balance of shadow and light play over her face and in the light of the waterfall he could see that she was conflicted.

"You can't do this. You _cannot_ do this. It's not fair of you to do this. Not after last night. And not after you made it clear that you weren't interested."

"Ma'am…I _am_ interested. But I'm not supposed to be. Not while I'm protecting you. But still…I can't stop myself from…"

"Stop yourself from doing what?"

The question hung between them as the moments passed, slowly and quickly at the same time. But she knew what he meant. Without him even saying the words. And he wanted to say them, wanted to so badly, but he couldn't. Wouldn't allow himself to. A warm breeze moved around them, wrapping them in a whirlwind of emotion that neither of them knew how to handle. He knew he was breaking protocol again, knew he was crossing a line again, but he couldn't stop himself from moving a little bit closer. He wanted to - had to, needed to - touch her. He extended his arm, being as inconspicuous as he possibly could and gently slid his index finger along her palm. She hissed at the touch but didn't pull away. He was amazed at the jolt he felt at the mere caress of her skin. He slowly pulled his hand away, opening and closing his fist, trying to prolong the feeling.

"What happened to the clean slate?" she asked.

He nodded his head in acknowledgment of the question and the conversation they'd had earlier that morning in her office. There was still time to go backwards, though he doubted either of them was capable of it.

She didn't get an answer. And she wouldn't. Not tonight anyway, because they both heard the patio door open, and Liz's footsteps sounded on the wooden floor of the verandah. She turned toward him slowly, and saw the conflict she felt inside equally matched in his eyes.

"Joss."

She tore her gaze away, looking in the direction of Liz's voice and sighed. In another life, another time, maybe they would be perfect for each other. But not in this one. She walked back up the path, the stones smooth under her feet.

Whether they wanted it or not, a clean slate, like this path before them was the only route to take.

* * *

><p>AN The bottle of wine from St. Eden that both Joss and Liz favour is a Bordeaux blend made in Napa Valley in California by Bond. It averages for about $352 per bottle.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Many thanks to Fanu for being my beta.

**Disclaimer ~~ I do not own Person of Interest or any of its characters, nor do I own Scandal or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><em>Arlington National Cemetery<em>

Arlington County, Virginia

Joss stared down at the headstone as Taylor rested a bouquet of white lilies in front of it. It was drizzling, and the droplets of rain pelted the cellophane that covered the delicate petals. The weather hadn't deterred the small group of reporters who were there to capture the moment, and Joss couldn't help thinking that the intimacy of visiting Paul's grave was lost amidst the glare of camera flash and commentary that came from the press.

Taylor was none too pleased. Neither was she, but she was getting used to it.

"Do they really have to be here for this, mom?" he asked, scowling. "Can't we have one moment of privacy?"

She put an arm around his shoulder and sighed. Her mother stood to her left, and Joss felt comforted by her arm around her waist. It was the support she needed at the moment.

"I wish they didn't. But you know that not much is private anymore when it comes to our lives."

"Unfortunately," Evelyn said, looking down at Paul's grave. "He was a good man."

Joss nodded slowly in agreement. Everything between them hadn't been rosy a hundred percent of the time, but at the end of the day, Paul _was_ a good man. And he'd been a good father to Taylor too.

"The rain is coming down harder, Jocelyn. We need to go."

Joss turned to her mother and nodded once more. The agents at their side held umbrellas above their heads and turned to escort them back to their cars. John was walking just ahead of them, and though she was flanked by her mother and son, her gaze was fixed on his back till they finally walked through the entrance to the cemetery. She turned to look up at the bold letters over McClellan arch.

Behind her she could hear Taylor calling to her. "Mom, the rain. Come on."

She met John's eyes as he waited for her to get into the car. She couldn't stop the whisper of a smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth before she hopped into the back seat. By the time they pulled into traffic, the slight drizzle became a downpour.

"Goodbye, Paul," she said, and looked ahead to the rearview window for the first time in a long time. She didn't know why she expected anything else but to see him staring right back. He was wearing his sunglasses, but he still held her gaze behind them.

Beside her, she felt her mother's fingernails sinking into her arm. "Ow. What…?"

Evelyn's lips were pursed as she stared at her daughter.

"What is it?" Joss asked.

Joss watched her gaze move to the front seat and then back to her. She said nothing more, but when she looped her arm through Joss' she knew they'd talk about it later.

* * *

><p>As soon as Joss stepped off the private jet and her feet hit the tarmac, her cell phone began to ring. She wasn't surprised to hear Finch's voice on the other end of the line and rolled her eyes as she followed Reese to their vehicle.<p>

"Harold, I've barely gotten back to New York, could you at least have let me get home first? My weekend off isn't officially over till tomorrow. It's Sunday."

"I know what day it is, but what I need to talk about can't wait."

She listened to him drone on about weaknesses in their campaign, the need to appeal to younger voters and how she didn't seem to be all that popular in Florida. After exiting the airport and finally settling into the back seat of the car, she wanted to go home and relax for the rest of the evening. Taylor seemed tired as he leaned on her shoulder, her mother was on the phone talking to a friend of hers, but all Joss could think of was the relaxation she'd had at the rental home in Virginia Beach. They caught up with her aunt and her cousins while they were there. Taylor was glad to be around people his age after being on punishment for what he deemed an eternity.

She and her cousin Candice's boys spent a lot of time by the pool and she was amazed at how much they'd grown. In another two years Joe and Barry would be heading off to college. So would Taylor. She thought of Paul's death, visiting his grave today, and suddenly she realized she wasn't quite ready to let Taylor go.

"Joss. Joss." Finch was calling her name, and it took her a while to respond.

"I'm sorry, Harold. My mind is elsewhere and I think we need to talk about this tomorrow."

He sighed heavily on the other line. She knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Okay. We can talk about the numbers tomorrow, but Joss, there's something else."

"There's always something else, Harold. But tonight, whatever that is, it can wait."

"It can't. There's been a development that we need to discuss and I'm already at your house waiting for you. I brought someone with me."

"Someone like who?" she asked, annoyed at the fact that he'd taken it upon himself to intrude on what were the last few hours of her much deserved vacation.

"Olivia Pope."

Olivia Pope had worked as President Grant's communications director during the beginning of his first term until she left to start her own crisis management firm just a year later. She was a fixer. A very well paid one. Only the elite of Washington and most people in the political arena contacted her when they needed things of a delicate nature handled. If Harold called her, something had him very worried. She hung up the phone, toying with it in her hands.

"Agent Reese."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We have an unexpected guest at the house," Joss said.

"A guest, ma'am?"

"Who is it, Jocelyn?" her mother asked.

"Olivia Pope. I'm sure you'll want to run a background check on her."

* * *

><p>As promised, Finch was there when they pulled into the driveway. Both he and Ms. Pope got out of his car and while Finch was dressed in his usual three piece suit and tie, Ms. Pope wore jeans and knee high boots and a white belted cashmere sweater. Her attire spoke of luxury, and she had an air of importance about her. Joss walked over to shake hands with her while Finch introduced them, and Reese stood close by.<p>

"I must say I'm a little taken aback that Harold called you, Ms. Pope," Joss said.

"Well he said he needed my help with a tiny problem you're having with the campaign, and I told him I'd be happy to assist in any way I can. And please, call me Olivia."

"Olivia."

They all walked into the foyer together and Joss stood aside while Williamson and Groves did a quick search of her person before they searched her designer handbag.

"Sorry about all this, but it's a necessary inconvenience."

"Not a problem at all, Senator," Olivia said.

"Let's go into my office, shall we?"

Evelyn and Taylor headed upstairs with their luggage while the agents went to their respective positions throughout the house. Reese stood outside her door, and when Joss rounded her desk to sit down, she noticed Olivia staring at John before Harold closed it.

"Something wrong?"

'Not at all, Senator. He just looks…vaguely familiar. Like we've met somewhere before."

"Well he's been an agent for fifteen years, I'm sure you might have seen his face one time or the other."

"Speaking of familiar faces…."

In one rapid movement, Olivia took two different newspapers out of her bag and laid them on the desk in front of Joss. Under the fold of one on them and above the fold on the other were pictures of her and John. One of them highlighted the incident after the Veteran's luncheon with his arm around her waist, while the other speculated on the nature of their relationship beyond his position as her protective agent.

"What is this?" she asked, staring at a photo of the two of them taken at a particular moment that made it look as if they were smiling at each other. She remembered that day clearly. She'd just chatted with someone in the crowd, had a smile on her face because of what they'd said and she had turned her head. John had also heard the joke and smiled. The photographer had simply gotten lucky with the capture. "This makes it look like -"

"Like something is going on between you two. Is there?"

"No. There isn't," Joss said.

"Are you sure? There's not some illicit affair, no secret meetings when you're both out of sight of everyone else."

"Nothing is going on."

"I just have to ask, because when articles like this come out there's usually some truth to it."

"Is that so?"

"Senator, in the game of politics you know that where there's smoke, there's fire."

"I can assure you, Olivia, in this case, nothing is burning."

She didn't like what Olivia was implying. Despite the fact that there were unresolved feelings, and a strong attraction between her and John, neither of them had acted on it. And she would be lying if she said she didn't like the fact that she didn't like whatever it was that they shared being described as illicit or cheap. She glared in Finch's direction.

"Joss we talked about this months ago. And after some of the comments online, if we don't do something about it now, it's only going to get worse," he said, raising his eyebrows so high she thought they would reach his hairline.

"What exactly do you expect me to do?"

"Let's be clear, Senator. I personally don't care if you're screwing your Secret Service agent."

"Excuse me?" Joss asked, leaning forward.

"I don't care if you're screwing half the men in New York City -"

"Now, wait a minute, Ms. Pope. This is where I have to stop you." Joss got up, eyebrow raised and walked around her desk. "I don't know what Harold's told you about me, but whatever it was, I'm _sure_ you misunderstood."

There was no mistaking the anger in her tone. In fact, it was so clear that Olivia stood up. Joss smiled, she knew who she was dealing with, but she was not going to stand here and listen to her rattle on with her assumptions. Ms. Pope might be a formidable political player, but Joss Carter was no rookie.

"Right now, you're failing when it comes to family values. Not because you're not a good mother, not because you are a widow, but because when it comes to their politicians, the American public prefers the appearance of a good lie instead of the ugly truth. So you ask what we expect you to do, well here it is. Whether you like it or not, you're going to have to start dating."

"Harold, why do I feel like I walked into an ambush?" Though she directed her gaze and tone to him, he was silent. Instead, he let Olivia continue.

"And you can't just date any man; you have to date someone who's politically correct. He has to have money for one, because a woman such as yourself has to date someone with a similar amount of wealth. Two, he has to be someone equally or more important and thirdly you need to project the image of someone who's in a stable relationship in a pretty small amount of time. Harold, you said the big fundraiser is in three weeks right?" Olivia asked, turning to him.

"Yes, it is."

"Good so that doesn't give us much time."

"Time for what?" Joss asked, confused.

"Time for you to establish a credible semi-stable relationship and one that the public will approve of."

"How exactly am I supposed to meet someone and be in a relationship by the night of the fundraiser?"

"I already have the perfect candidate."

"And I agree he's a good choice Joss." Finch turned to finally acknowledge her. She stared at them both in shock.

"What the...?"

"Ian Murphy," Olivia stated, simply.

"Ian Murphy?" Joss asked.

"Of the Kent family."

"I know who he is."

"Then you know he's the Assistant US Attorney in Washington, he's practically American royalty, and members of his family have been Senators, Congressmen or Presidents dating all the way back to the sixties."

"I said I know who he is and who his family is, but I can't -"

"You _have_ to, Joss. If you want to win, then this is what you have to do."

"Harold, you're asking me to just…do you understand what this all sounds like?"

"Yes, I do, Joss. I do," he said, softening his tone. "But it doesn't have to be that way. And besides Ian isn't expecting you to fall in love."

"Senator, he's very much aware that this is an arrangement of convenience, and if you're not successful in your bid for the Presidency, once you use your connections to ensure he gets appointed as the US Attorney in Washington, he's willing to play the game for as long as he has to."

"And if I do happen to win?"

"Then he'll stay with you for as long as you hold the office of the Presidency."

"You both sound like you had it all planned. Did I even need to be present for this _'meeting'_? Obviously my opinion doesn't count."

She wanted to win. She didn't come this far to give up because of speculation about a relationship with her Secret Service agent. And she didn't want to lose just because she didn't have a husband.

John would never understand, she thought, idly running the pad of her thumb across her palm and thinking of the way he'd touched her there by the pond. They didn't have a relationship, but if he found out…all she could think about was his reaction.

"Senator, campaigns are never pretty. They're messy, they're ugly, and they drain everything out of your soul. You want to win. You want those numbers to come back up. You want to be the last woman standing. This is the only way."

She was right. It _was_ draining everything out of her soul. Finch was right too, her numbers were stagnant, and even though Donnelly was out of the picture, she still hadn't moved ahead as much as they'd hoped. She couldn't believe she was agreeing to this. She knew at times she might be required to play dirty. Digging up Donnelly's mistress and kid felt dirty enough, but this arrangement with Ian Murphy felt like an outright lie.

"Fine."

Olivia nodded and took her phone out of her purse. She was already dialing a number.

"Ian's coming to New York in the morning. You two can have dinner tomorrow evening. I'll book the reservations, have him meet you here by six, and I'll leak the restaurant location to the press."

"The press?"

"We need the public to forget about those pictures." She pointed to the newspapers on the desk. "We want them to see you two together as much as possible, and we've only got three weeks. You need to have gone on at least six dates by the evening of the luncheon."

Joss couldn't believe this was happening. It didn't feel like something she would do, and though she'd agreed to it, it didn't sit well with her at all.

* * *

><p>It was a little past 11:30pm and the house was quiet. Most of it was shrouded in darkness save for the lamp the Senator always left on in the den. Taylor and Mrs. Ward had already retired for the evening and Reese had left post upstairs for a moment to prepare for the shift change. Groves was on break, and he himself would be leaving in a few minutes.<p>

He heard movement on the stairs and turned to see the Senator head for the kitchen. She switched the light on and he heard the flow of tap water as he headed for that direction.  
>Underneath the robe she wore, she was already dressed for bed. He was always amazed by how youthful she looked when she was fresh faced and dressed down. Her simple gray pajama bottom and matching cotton tee easily succeeded in erasing about five years off of her.<br>She looked up when he entered and gave a sheepish smile.

"Busted, huh?"

He smiled in return.

"You always seem to catch me when I'm about to indulge my sweet tooth."

"Well," he said, cocking his head to the side with a smirk "My timing is either really good or really bad."

She shrugged like she was mulling the idea over. He didn't know what her meeting with her campaign manager had been about, but she looked unsettled when it was over. Maybe her anxiety over whatever had happened in her office had led to this late night search for sweets. She took a box of double fudge cookies from the cupboard over the sink and gazed back at him.

"You have no idea how much I wish it was the former, but it seems like when it comes to you and me, it's always bad timing."

She popped a cookie into her mouth and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

She held out the box, offering him a cookie. He reached into his pocket instead and placed a small burner phone into her palm.

She swallowed but said nothing despite the many questions he knew she wanted to ask. He let his fingers linger near hers for a moment while she looked up at him.

"Goodnight, ma'am."

* * *

><p>Reese stared at the prepaid cell phone in his hand and thought of a similar one he'd given the senator just tonight. He paced the floor of his bedroom. It was 1am in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. He'd been home for about an hour now, had showered, put on his boxers and had tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He'd pulled the phone out of his drawer ten minutes ago and had been contemplating whether he should make the call ever since. The call he'd wanted to make weeks ago. The call that had prompted him to purchase both phones in the first place since any call from his work issued one could be tapped, or traced, or monitored. And since the call he wanted to make was against all protocol and was of a private nature, he couldn't risk that.<p>

He wanted to call _her_.

It had been three weeks since she'd been to dinner at Liz's. Three weeks of work, campaign obligations and non-stop meetings that left her with hardly any free time except for when she was with her mother and son in Virginia Beach this weekend. But she was always with someone, never alone, and though he'd caught her eye a few times, that one moment they'd shared by the pond when they'd both finally admitted that something was going on between them hadn't gone any further than said pond.

All of his efforts to remain professional were working on the surface, but underneath it all, he was failing. He knew the situation was beyond hopeless, but it didn't stop the thoughts he had about her. Didn't stop the longing he felt at the sound of her voice. Didn't sever the invisible string that kept pulling him in her direction.

He sat down on the bed, and he knew what he was about to do was nothing short of insane, but he was going to do it anyway.

He dialed her number, his thumb shaking as he pressed the digits, and he held the phone to his ear and waited. In reality the phone only rang three times, but it felt like an eternity before she picked up and answered. When she did, her voice was sleep tinged and he felt a pang of guilt for waking her.

"I swear to God, Harold. I already agreed to you outrageous plan, what more do you want?" He could hear the rustling of her bedding in the background.

"It's not Harold," he replied, a smile curving his lips. "I'm the only one who has this number."

"Oh," she said. "I didn't even check which phone I'd picked up…I just reached out in the dark…Hi."

"Hi," he replied, suddenly feeling like a kid again, and he was talking to the popular girl in school for the first time. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No, it's okay."

"Maybe I shouldn't have called."

_Damn it, why was he sabotaging himself?_

"Well, let's face it. There have been a lot of things we both shouldn't have done since you started my detail." She gave a short laugh, and must have moved the phone closer to her mouth because now her voice sounded so much deeper in his ear. It was almost as if she was lying next to him. "Why _are_ you calling?"

He could lie. He could make up some excuse. But what would be the point? It was the middle of the night, and his call alone spoke volumes about his intentions. There was no further reason to hide.

"I missed you, and I just wanted to hear your voice."

There. He'd said it, admitting it not only to her, but to himself.

"You just spoke to me tonight. In my kitchen."

"That doesn't count."

"Hmm…I thought _Operation Clean Slate_ was still in full effect," she said, quietly, though he could detect the sound of a reluctant smile.

"We tried it out. It didn't take. I think we have to put that mission to bed. Let it just go away quietly."

"Is that what we're going to do?"

"I think it's best given the circumstances, Joss."

Saying her name again felt as easy as breathing for him. He heard her slight gasp on the other end, felt warmth in his chest and knew that something was turning again. Something he knew would be huge and extremely important.

"And what prompted that decision?"

"You," he said, simply. "I just couldn't stay away from _you_ any longer."

"Well. This is really heavy for one in the morning."

Her nervous laughter made him smile too, and he lay back in bed against the pillows, mimicking what he thought her postured be as she lay in her own bed.

"Okay. Let's see if we can lighten it up a little for you."

"Yes, please," she said, laughing again. The sound was so sweet, yet deep and sexy, and he loved the feeling it gave him. Like joy moving over his body. "Tell me how your weekend was, John."

After weeks of being called Agent Reese, he couldn't describe the relief he felt in that moment. It truly meant a lot.

"Well I had the pleasure of watching over this Senator and her family while they were on vacation."

"Senator, huh? Do I know her?"

"You might; she's from New York, and she's running for president."

"Oh, she is? So for you to be watching somebody that important…I guess you must be one of the best at what you do?"

"Well I don't like to toot my horn, but, I am _very_ good at what I do."

Joss smiled at the dip in his voice. He was good, very good. But she wanted to keep him talking. She wanted to hear his take on how the weekend went.

"So during this vacation this Senator took, did she get into any trouble? Get involved in any scandals you can dish on?"

"She was perfectly behaved, actually. Spent most of the time with her family, relaxed by the pool."

"So you got a chance to check her out in her swimsuit."

"I would never do such a thing. I _am_ a professional. And a gentleman I might add. But I did notice while she was dancing with her son that she's got two left feet. Can't dance worth a damn, but those feet are attached to some very beautiful legs."

"Hmm," she murmured, suppressing a giggle. "So instead of making sure this woman was safe, you spent the entire weekend ogling her. Makes me wonder if she was even aware that you were so…distracted."

"To tell you the truth I don't think she noticed I was there until we were just about to go home. But that brief moment when our eyes met was the most satisfying three seconds I've had in about three weeks."

"Three weeks?"

"And two days, but who's counting."

Apparently he was, just as much as she had in the time that'd followed Liz's dinner. But there'd been no time, no rest from the campaign, and now after her meeting with Finch tonight and Ms. Pope, there was no hope. Suddenly everything felt out of her control. She didn't have the heart to tell him that he was too late, that their timing was off. Not again. Not when he'd finally built up the courage to actually call and reach out despite their joint knowledge of how impossible their circumstances were. She'd thought that after all this that they could continue to be professional with each other. But the moment Harold and Olivia suggested she start dating Ian Murphy, and fast, the first person, the only person she immediately thought of was John. And he'd chosen tonight of all nights to call.

"Joss?" His voice was so soft on the phone, and she pictured him wrapped up in clean sheets on a plush mattress. She wished she could be next to him. "Did I lose you?"

"No. No, you haven't. I'm still here."

"I'm glad."

"Well you know, I think that those few seconds you two looked at each other meant something to that Senator too."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think she actually is not as disinterested as you would think."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I have it on good authority. I bet if you said something, maybe told her how you felt…she might not have a problem with it."

There was a silence for a moment, and it felt like she was holding her breath in anticipation of what he would say. She'd taken the first step when she'd first talked to him in her kitchen, the second step when she had invited him into her bedroom. This call was a third step in a direction both of them were afraid to take. But she wanted a little something more. She could hear Harold's voice in her ear telling her to hang up, to end it now, but her heart was screaming louder.

"Joss?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm falling in love with you. And I want you. I want you like I haven't wanted anyone in a very long time. I wish that I could touch you right now. Kiss you, hold you."

"Make love to me?" she whispered, softly.

"Make love to you."

She wished she could see his face when he said it. See the darkening of his eyes as he admitted his desire. The sound of his voice as he breathed the words sent goose bumps travelling over her skin. It was like a whisper, a soft caress, and she felt butterflies in her stomach thinking of what'd it be like to kiss him.

"Joss, I know it doesn't make sense. I know we barely even know each other. But please…please tell me I'm not alone in this. Please."

She had a date with Ian Murphy tomorrow. Dinner at seven. They were supposed to eat, talk, smile, be seen together and then go home. And she cringed knowing that John would have to be there the entire time to watch.

But she couldn't leave him hanging. Everything about this man from the moment she met him up until now said that he was professional in what he did. He took his job seriously and had never done anything like this before. These were unchartered waters for him, and he was literally swimming out into the deep end toward her.

"You're not, John," she said, closing her eyes and turning her head into the softness of her pillow. She clenched her thighs together, fighting the waves of arousal that started to sweep over her, that started to shake her at her core.

She didn't care about the date tomorrow; she didn't care about what would happen after. She just knew that this moment was important. It was the moment of truth, and all that mattered right now was the honesty that was being laid out between them. She knew once she said the words, there'd be no turning back, but she had to be honest with him and finally with herself.

"You're not alone. I'm falling in love with you too."

* * *

><p>AN A little bit of trivia. Can anyone guess just where Liv might know Reese from? Only people who've followed my stories from the very beginning will know for sure. XD


	7. Chapter 7

A/N This is the latest installment, and I hope you enjoy it. There was no beta, so forgive any mistakes you might find.

*Disclaimer ~ I do not own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>Monday<em> night, 7:20pm<em>

The restaurant was lovely, the décor was amazing, and this being Joss' first time at The Rainbow Room over Rockefeller Center; she was impressed. Dinner reservations at this restaurant were required to be made at least sixty days in advance, but somehow Olivia Pope had gotten two tables for them without any issues. Whoever she called to make it happen must have been indebted to the fixer in a very big way.

On Monday nights, the menu was a la carte, and the swing band had been playing since before she and Ian had arrived. He was handsome, she admitted. Stepped through the front door of her house tall and broad shouldered with twinkling blue eyes and a smile that meant to dazzle and lure her in. He was attractive, a smooth talker, and the suit he wore complemented his svelte figure. If they had met under different circumstances, she might have been open to dating him. Circumstances being what they were, this was an inconvenience she desperately wished she could get out of.

When she took his arm and they walked out to the cars, she could feel Reese' eyes boring into her back. They slid into the back seat, and before Ian started a conversation she saw John looking at her through the rearview.

_Later_, her eyes promised. _I'll explain later._

He and Sam Groves sat just a table away from her and Ian, while Miller was stationed at the entryway of the hall that led to the restrooms and kitchen. She involuntarily gripped the handle of her fork and hadn't realized she'd been staring at Reese until Ian squeezed her fingers, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"You know, I think we're pretty safe up here," he said, looking over at Reese too. "And they're close enough to protect you if something goes wrong."

She smiled nervously, blinking. "I'm sorry. I'm just distracted tonight."

"Well, look alive. We've been spotted."

"What?" she asked.

He pointed towards the door, and the maitre'd who was trying to usher out a group of photographers who had arrived and had started taking pictures of them.

_Right on time_, she thought. No doubt, as promised, they were here because someone from Olivia's camp had tipped them off.

"Smile, Joss."

Ian slid his hand across the table, taking hers, and she couldn't help but think that the smile that split her face just then should have won her the Academy Award for Best Actress in the movie that was now her life.

"You have an amazing smile."

"You don't have to feed me any lines, Ian." She tilted her head to the side, shaking it.

"That was not a line, Joss, really. And this doesn't have to be totally uncomfortable."

"Really?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine.

He laughed. "I thought that we could probably get to know one another, but it looks like you are determined not to have a good time."

"This whole thing is just…" _One big circus_ is what she really wanted to say. _One big performance act that she hated._

"Think of it as a blind date, and I'm just someone your friend hooked you up with."

The thought of Liz arranging a blind date for her elicited some laughter and a smile from him as well. It was definitely something she would do, and after Liz's joke about the last time she'd had sex, Joss could see her orchestrating a date for her with someone who she felt could fix that problem.

"See, I knew I could get you to smile. That's all I've wanted all evening," he said, leaning closer in. "And that's what the reporters need to see whenever we're together."

She'd thawed momentarily, but the mention of what this date was really about tossed a figurative bucket of ice water on her once more. She remembered that he only wanted to be the US Attorney, nothing more.

"Excuse me, Ian," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

* * *

><p>Reese saw the Senator rise from the table and got up.<p>

"Ma'am?"

"I'm just going to the ladies' room," she answered, her voice low. She kept her eyes averted, not looking at him directly.

Raising his cuff near his mouth, he spoke into his microphone, alerting Miller that she was headed his way, and he watched while Miller went to ensure that the area leading to and around the restroom was secure. Once he gave the all clear, Reese followed her down the hallway. Both of them reached the door, and though her hand rested on the handle, she didn't move.

"It's not what it looks like."

Her voice was quiet, low, so that only he could hear, and the seconds passed as she waited for him to respond.

"It looks like you're on a date."

"I am, but…this is just business." She still faced the door, but she turned her head toward him, a pleading look on her face.

He felt confused, and they had no time to discuss it. They were only concealed by a small corridor, not only was Miller no more than a seventy feet away, but Ian was waiting back at their table. The moment he'd seen their dinner date listed on her itinerary this morning, he'd felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. Sure their conversation could have come after she'd already made her plans with Murphy, but the things that they'd confessed to each other felt real. It hadn't felt like a game, and now she was admitting that it was a date. He was finding it hard to reconcile the two things.

"Business?"

"_I'm sorry ma'am, but if I could ask you to wait a moment for me. The restroom will be available soon." _

Miller's voice drifted in their direction, and Reese knew what little time they had was gone. Still she turned to him quickly.

"This doesn't change anything that I said to you last night. I meant every word. About us, about how I feel about you. But this is something that I have to do. I don't have a choice right now."

"This is about your campaign? That's what he is? A…"

"A means to an end," she insisted, looking into his eyes. Her frustration at the situation matched his own. "I wish that there was time to explain it all to you, but…"

She reached out to take his hand, the feel of her fingers looping through his conveying the urgency of her words. He squeezed her hand in return, taking a step closer to her, close enough that she momentarily leaned her head on his chest, breathing him in. It took all of his self control not to hold her, instead he watched her step backward and the moment her fingers slid away from his he felt coldness wrap around them. She disappeared into the restroom and he put his back to the wall, swearing under his breath.

When he escorted her back to the table a few minutes later, he sat there listening to her laugh, thinking of how it had sounded in his ears when he talked to her on the phone. He heard her telling Murphy a story about her first case as a lawyer, and it reminded him of one she told about an abused wife who was trying to divorce her husband. The case had touched her so much that she still kept in touch with the woman years later. He sat there listening to anecdotes and jokes, whispers and flirtations, and while Ian Murphy touched her, curled his fingers around hers, he was filled with a quiet rage that he'd never felt in his life.

He wanted those smiles for himself. He wanted to be the one to sit across from her in public and not have to hide. He wanted to be the one to hold her hand and be free to touch her without it ruining both their careers. He wanted to be the one who was good enough for her. She said that it was a sham, that it was business, but he wasn't sure he could stand idly by, watching her have a relationship with someone else, real or fake.

He had survived days without food, had been stuck behind enemy lines not knowing if he'd live or die. He'd rescued hostages, taken out teams of military forces, had scaled mountains and survived various types of dangerous combat. But this - this was killing him. He'd never trained for this.

He didn't know if he could do…_this_.

* * *

><p>There was something different about him. She couldn't imagine how the agents who worked with Reese didn't sense it like she had. But after they'd gotten back from the restroom, on the ride home from the restaurant, there was a noticeable change in his mood and demeanor. She supposed that it had something to do with their brief moment in the hall, but there was a new air of virility and something potent and powerful about him. It was so palpable she could feel the hair on her arms stand on edge.<p>

Ian said goodnight outside the house, kissed her on the cheek and finally drove off in his car. She walked inside with Reese not far behind her and headed for the kitchen. A glass of water didn't seem to make her feel better and she eyed the bottle of St. Eden's that rested alone on the wine rack. She needed something to calm her nerves. Something to still the energy that she was picking up from Reese even though he wasn't even in the same room with her at the moment.

Right now he was out front, dismissing Marconi and Burton for the night. Williamson was going on break, and soon Groves would go home too. Taylor and her mother were already in bed, and the house was quiet, still, as if it was waiting for something to happen. She opened the utensil drawer, toying with the corkscrew in her hand, mulling over the idea to open the bottle of red wine. Eventually, she put it back and shut the drawer. It was late, and the only thing that would make her feel better now is if she went to bed.

She exited the kitchen, and that's when she saw him. He wordlessly followed her up the stairs and her stomach jumped at his nearness, at the energy that flowed strongly between them. Her throat went dry, and as she walked down the hallway to her room door at the very end, she paused.

His hand slid around her waist, his fingers splayed over her stomach, and it stayed there as she reached for the doorknob.

_This wasn't Agent Reese anymore_, she thought as they entered the bedroom. The door closed behind them softly and when he stood close to her as his fingers turned the lock, she realized he was the man she spoke to on the phone last night. The man who said he couldn't stop thinking about her, who had wanted to hear her voice, who had said he wanted to make love to her.

He pressed her into the wall as his mouth swooped down, and that lurch in her stomach that she felt as he stood behind her on the stairs came back. She was amazed at how quickly her body was responding. Amazed at how the feel of his lips on hers had already started a quivering in her belly and travelled all the way between her legs.

She felt the wall at her back, his tongue exploring her mouth and she was overcome with raw lust. His hands quickly undid the buttons of her cardigan, slid it off her and threw it to the ground. He squeezed her breasts through the fabric of her dress, and she moved her hands underneath his jacket.

His lips never left hers as his hands explored her body, and she felt herself growing wet when his hands palmed her bottom, when his fingers twisted her nipples. His kiss was hard, passionate, as if he wanted to brand her, as if he wanted to claim her, mark her so that Ian would know who she belonged to. And when she reached up to run her hands through his hair, as she clawed at his face, she knew that he belonged to her too.

Her heart was beating fast, his hands were on her thighs inching her dress up higher and higher. She lowered her hands to his waist, fumbled with his belt and undid his zipper. He pressed himself closer to her, so close that she could feel the imprint of him resting hard against her below the waist, and she stroked him over his clothes.

He kissed her on her neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail on her skin, and she felt so dizzy, not quite believing this was happening. It had been so long since she'd felt this alive, felt this hot and wet. Her dress was bunched around her waist, his hands impatiently pulled at her panties, and she heard the sound of the fabric being ripped from around her.

He lifted her off the ground as he buried his face into her neck and with one swift move he raised her over his cock to slide inside. She tensed at the penetration. Years of celibacy provided a temporary barrier to his movements and he raised her butt, shifting her around him until she could rest comfortably on his shaft.

She held onto him as he started to stroke, her back moving against the wall up and down while the slickness and hardness of him slid within her. He was rough as he pushed further in, like he couldn't wait, like he'd waited long enough. Like he meant to devour every inch of her. She clawed at him while he buried his face in her chest, dug her nails into his shoulders as his hips twisted inside her.

She wrapped her legs tightly around his back, feeling the delicious friction of him, trying to meet his thrusts as he held onto her, trying to take him all in. His muffled, urgent cries were buried in her chest until she kissed him, taking them into her mouth where they mingled with her own. He felt so fucking good, so fucking powerful, and he slammed into her like he was desperate to bury himself down deep.

She felt his breath hitch in his chest, felt her sweet ecstasy start to take over, and with his final thrust he emptied himself inside her with a grunt that vibrated in his chest. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, wanting so badly to scream out her orgasm, but reason told her she couldn't. She felt immobilized by the waves of pleasure that rode over her, and she couldn't move as he pressed her heavily into the wall. His body was a glorious weight against her, their clothes a tangled mess between them. They were both sweaty, panting, euphoric, wanting more.

She held onto him, not letting go while he walked over to the bed with her still in his arms and sat down. Her legs were still around him, and he softly kissed her face, his lips sweet, gentle, tender.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her, running his tongue along the inside of her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" she asked, pulling away to look at him. She hoped it wasn't regret that he was expressing. Not now. Not when it had been so unexpectedly beautiful.

"I didn't mean for our first time to be so…"

"So what?"

"So rushed," he said. "I wanted to take my time."

She looked at the sheen of sweat on his face, his ruffled hair. She cupped his face and kissed him, felt him pulling her closer to his chest. His embrace was so tender, his kiss so sweet, she couldn't describe the immediate closeness that she felt towards him.

"You can make it up to me, can't you?" she asked, grinning against his lips.

"Oh yes. There's still time."

* * *

><p>Joss lay back with her head on her pillow with her legs open. A sliver of light came from the en suite bathroom and inside she could hear water running from the sink. A few seconds later it shut off, and John walked over to the bed. It dipped under his weight when he knelt on top of it. He placed a warm moist towel between her legs, not only to clean up the traces of his fluids, but also to soothe the slight soreness she felt from their first coupling.<p>

He reached down to pinch her left nipple, bent to run his tongue over it, sucked on it while he ran the towel between her legs. His hand was not only soothing, but was starting another fire that started to burn low in her belly. He moved his mouth from her breast to her lips, and she relished in the feel of his tongue over hers as they slid over each other over and over.

His hands moved over her, touching every part of her body, treating her like something that was rare and precious, and she loved that he had deemed her fragile and delicate. He hovered over her in the middle of the bed and proceeded to lick and suck and massage and soothe and explore every inch of her skin. All before he had moved one item of his own clothing.

"It's not fair, John," she groaned, while his mouth teased her under her navel. "I want to see you, touch you, too."

"Soon you will," he promised, as his lips travelled further down.

"Be gentle," she teased. "It's been a long time for me," she said softly.

"I will," he answered. "John's gonna make it all better."

She gasped just then as his lips opened up over her opening. As his tongue slid over the length of it. As he teased and played with her clit, as he buried his face between her legs. As he drank in her scent, as he kissed her thighs, bit them, finger fucked her and licked her some more. As he started to feast on her, tease her labia, and play over them until she shuddered and her legs shook, and then her whole body burst with an orgasm so powerful she almost couldn't breathe.

When she mewled, when she rocked from side to side trying to catch her breath, trying to come down from the high that kept pulling her upwards, he finally started to shred his clothes. She watched him take off his jacket, undid the buttons at his wrist. When he took his shirt off she saw the wire around his torso that was linked to his microphone. He took off his undershirt, and she saw the scars on his chest, the ones that he'd gotten in the Army, the ones that he'd gotten when he'd been in close combat.

He took off his shoes, his socks, his pants, and then his boxer briefs, and finally she could see all of him. His broad shoulders, small waist, toned thighs. She got up from her back, taking one brown nipple after the other into her mouth as she held the weight of his cock in her hands. She trailed kisses down his chest, over his belly, feeling him quiver underneath her tongue. He was hard in her hand, heavy, and she got on her belly, positioned herself to take him into her mouth.

As soon as she did, she felt his pre-cum ooze onto her tongue. She ran her hand over his butt cheek, pulled him closer so she could take more of him into her mouth. She felt the veins of his cock as they pulsed over her tongue, ran the tip of it across the slit on the head and felt him spilling once more. He threaded his fingers through her hair as she lingered on him, and she felt his legs go weak, felt him hold onto the bed as the feelings started to get more and more intense. Soon he began to whimper, the grip on her tresses got tighter, and she knew he was close to coming.

She gave another long pull, used her tongue and her mouth, and he stiffened as his juices started to flow into her mouth and down her throat. He groaned, holding back his cries as she had before, knowing they weren't alone in the house, knowing they didn't have much more time. He pulled her up by her arms to hold her once more, dragged her back to the middle of the bed and kissed her.

"Joss, Joss, Joss…."

He murmured her name over and over again. He felt like he was drunk off of her. Felt like this was where he was meant to be. Felt like he was glad he'd never gotten a presidential detail before. If he had, he'd never have been put on hers. It was fate. It was destiny that had led him here. And he had to hold onto her for as long as he could.

"Are you tired?" she asked, grinning. And he could feel her hands moving between his legs, caressing him again, coaxing him to hardness. "I know it's been a long day, but…don't get tired yet, John."

Her lips on his ears were delicious, as was she underneath him. Her body was amazingly beautiful, soft, shapely, her skin smooth, golden, simply glowing. He licked at her nipples, chuckling and shook his head.

"I'm not tired, Joss. I'm ready for more."

In fact he could feel his erection growing against her palm, springing to life as she ran the tip of his shaft over the moistness of her labia. He held onto her hips and pulled her on top of him, impaling her on his length. She gasped, dug her nails into his chest and started to buck against him.

The alternation of her hips, the way she moved atop him, drove him absolutely wild. He squeezed her breasts, thrust upward to meet her movements, but it wasn't enough. He lifted her off him gently, placed her on her knees and took her from behind. She buried her face into her pillow to cover the cries that escaped her lips. He saw the remote for the TV on the nightstand and reached for it, cutting it on so that it could camouflage the moans that they both could hold back no longer. He gritted his teeth, roughly pulled her to meet every one of his thrusts, their bodies colliding with one another, tangled together in an act of give and take, of claiming and owning, warmth and roughness, and of love and lust.

Later, he lay half atop her, half on the bed, trailing his hand along her side. She'd fallen asleep. The sheets were a tangled mess, and though he wished he could fall asleep with her like this, wake up with her beside him, he knew he had to leave. He looked at his watch and realized he had a little over a half hour till his shift was done. Tonight hadn't been planned. He'd wanted this for a long time, so badly, but tonight had not been planned. He'd seen her with Ian Murphy and suddenly felt as if he was running out of time.

He kissed her on her shoulder, gathered his clothing from the ground and walked into the bathroom to freshen up and get dressed.

* * *

><p>Joss hadn't realized that she'd dozed off. Whether it had been for five, ten, or fifteen minutes, she didn't know how long. When she opened her eyes, John wasn't in bed with her, but the light was on in the bathroom. She wrapped the sheet around her and opened the door. He was dressed already, his hair neatly brushed, everything back in its place as it was before. She suddenly felt sad. She missed him already even though he was still here, standing right in front of her. Formalities had to be put back in place once he stepped outside her bedroom door. She wasn't looking forward to that.<p>

"Don't do that, Joss. I wish I could stay. You don't know how much I want to."

"I know."

He fastened the buttons at his wrist, adjusted his microphone and looked at her.

"Is Murphy what your meeting with Ms. Pope was about?" he asked.

"Among other things, yes."

"And it was her idea for you to date him."

It wasn't a question, a simple statement, and she nodded her head. He took a deep breath and nodded too.

"Why?"

"There were stories in the papers about you and me. Speculation."

"Speculation about us?"

"Yes. But I don't want you to…this isn't your fault, John. This is politics. It's a game you have to play and I'm sure that Senator Caine had something to do with it. It's crunch time, and you have to be willing to do whatever you have to in order to get the nomination. Me being a single mother doesn't help. It's a weakness, and it's one that he is willing to exploit."

"So the relationship is fake. That works for now, but what happens if you win the nomination? What then, Joss? What happens to us?"

_He was scared._

It finally hit her. It wasn't just jealousy that he was feeling, but he'd finally given in to his feelings for her, expressed them, and now here Ian Murphy was to act as another obstacle in his way. John was scared. He didn't want to lose her.

The truth was she didn't know what would happen. She hadn't planned any of this. And lately, she was feeling like this campaign was turning her into something, _someone_ that she was not. She felt like herself when she was with him. Felt like she didn't have to pretend. She had to be intelligent and confident around her mother, she had to be strong and nurturing for Taylor, had to present the perfect image for the public, but the only person besides Liz that she didn't have to be anybody but herself around, was John.

She didn't want to lose that. She didn't want to lose him.

"I don't know." She slipped her arms around him, knowing that he had to leave, but she wanted to hold him one last time. "We'll figure it out. We'll figure something out. Okay?"

She walked him to her bedroom door, still reluctant to let him go, still holding onto his jacket. He sensed her unwillingness to see him leave and hugged her. She relaxed a little in his arms, kissed him back when he pressed his lips to hers, and teared up as he said goodnight.

"We'll figure something out," she said, again, touching his cheek. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

><p>AN Thanks for you all the fic support this year and all the reviews. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. XOXO


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